


[Insert Appropriately Dramatic Mass Effect Title Here]

by Nightranger45



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Asexual me, But I was not fine, Don't worry, I was an angry smol, I'll add more - Freeform, I'm 'fine', I'm not taking this as seriously as I should, Internal Monologue, Just wanting to let you guys know it's going to be OCs galore, Mild Language, Paragon Shepard (Mass Effect), Reincarnation, SI, Self-Insert, and you know.... angst, i do a thing, look how good i am at tagging, mostly humor filled, no, not even joking, puns will be made, sorry - Freeform, with a side order of snark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-02-05 09:09:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12791343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightranger45/pseuds/Nightranger45
Summary: So, I see you found my story.  Well, congratulations! I can promise you it's filled with adventure, drama, and romance. And guns. And me. I'm sorry how does this summery thing work?Wait-crap-I've gone off and ruined it.Hold up, let me start over....I die.And then I wake up again, but I find that the world has changed drastically.  Will I make it?  Or will I be swept up in the invasion?Find out in...uhhhwhy don't I ever think this far?[Insert Appropriately Dramatic Mass Effect Title Here]!





	1. Decision Making and Other Important Stuff

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Transmigration Effect](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/340971) by Twisted Platypus. 



  _su·per·ca·li·fra·gil·is·tic·ex·pi·a·li·do·cious (adjective)  
_

_extraordinarily good; wonderful. OR Atoning for educability through delicate beauty  
_

 

Let me introduce myself,  Adeline Marie Lynes, at least in this world.  I like video games, food, and my dogs.  Or I did. Before I died.  Yep.  You heard me, contain your gasps of shock, please, I’m trying to tell a story here.  I died.  I don’t remember much about it,  I was on the phone.  And I’d rather not revisit the traumatic dying bit if you don’t mind.  

 

Anyway, after the you know… _dying bit_ , I can only remember moving.  Have you ever imagined what it must be like for data to transfer from one computer to another?  I have.  I always thought it kind of sad actually.  The data going from one place to another without it really really knowing why.. That’s what I remember.  Just… the feeling that I was in fact, going somewhere.  That somewhere just happened to be in someone’s womb. Wait. Hold on, you say, someone’s _womb_?  Well let me tell you that I was not aware during this time.  But, yes.  Someone’s womb.

 

And let me tell you, it is not fun being a fully aware adult in the body of a baby.  I mean really?  I didn’t do the annoying high pitched voice thing before I died, and honestly I feel proud for being so respectful to the children of humanity.  Because I found it demeaning and if the other babies didn’t then they have _no_ self respect.  My toddler years were extremely difficult and filled with crippling depression, mostly because I saw my first alien and realized where I was….

 

_Mass Effect_

 

Did you like that?  I’ve been planning that one.  I love my jokes.  I’m digressing.  I swear, I’m usually better at this.  Uh… right.  Born into the world of a wonderful video game.  Honestly, my reaction was really calm for someone like me.  There was hardly any throwing up.  Just confusion (which I honestly think was understandable), an anxiety attack, and then the crippling depression that comes with having so much time to think about the fact that I died to end up on a world that would be destroyed.  On the flip side, I had a lot of time to come to terms with being born in a world that would be destroyed.  Beyond that however, my toddler years were boring.  If a bit annoying.  My ‘parents’ payed _way_ too much attention to me.  

 

Martha Marie Lynes and her husband General Maxwell Lynes.  I suppose I have no complaints about them, other than treating me like a daughter.  Which in hindsight isn’t that much of a complaint. I never let Martha and I get close, despite her best attempts. General Lynes was Alliance, a soldier through and through.  I respected him,  but that was the extent of our relationship.  However, he _did_ help me find my first two friends in this universe.  One was his son.  Not Martha’s though.  Max Jr. was kind, funny, and he seemed to appreciate my quirks and ‘adultish’ ways.  We were three years apart.  The other was the famous David Anderson.  He was more of a father figure than my actual fathers.  I was eleven when we met.  Thirteen when he started to teach me to use a gun.  Sixteen when he brought up me joining the Alliance to my parents.

                       

* * *

 

I’m still sixteen now, and having something of an argument with myself.  If that's what you could call a serious ethical and moral debate with about whether I should involve myself with the destruction that is the reapers.  I take a breath.  Another one. _Okay._ _Pros and Cons list.  Yes.  That’s good.  Keep it logical.  Pros: I know that I’ll relatively safe if I manage to get on the Normandy,  I might actually change something-which would be_ awesome _-and, I’ll feel satisfied morally.  Cons: Prolonged exposure to gunfire, authority, and dangerous people, I never learned specific details about safe and unsafe places in the game; so my safety isn’t_ really _assured._ There was a  knock on my door.  I get up and open it, to my surprise it's Maxwell, the old soldier one.  He stiffly held out several packets and spoke in the calm, emotionless voice I grew up hearing, “Information packets on different sections of the Alliance.  Read carefully.” he left. Leaving me slightly bewildered. _He_ wants _me to join?_ I close my eyes take another breath.   _This is such a bad idea.  You are too much of a coward to do this.  You’re going to do it anyway, aren’t you?_

 

The Alliance had a surprisingly large amount of options, at first I consider just being a soldier.  It would be expected. I know more than a few high placed officials and could get a post on the Normandy if I proved myself competent enough.  My mind strayed to the General and his straight posture and protocol.  I grimaced and put that packet down.  The others were ones that I was never really exposed to in-game.  The Intelligence,  for one.  The STG was cool,  and Cerberus had informants, but the Alliance spy network was a completely unknown factor.  I open the packet I was given on it…. And nothing.  Well, nothing useful.  I would need to know more to make an informed decision.  I tap my fingers on the desk I was sitting at.  After a long moment I have a plan.

 

* * *

 

I climb out of my car and walk up to the small box of a house.  I knock on the door, three sharp raps.  It opens and a confused and accented voice speaks, “Lynes?”

 

I give a lopsided grin, “Sup! How are you Jakob?”

 

Jakob moved his dark, messy hair out of his green eyes,  “Fine.  What are you doing here?”

 

“I need you to do something very much illegal for me.”

 

His confusion cleared, and he stepped aside letting me in.  My hands clasp behind my back and I give the small surprisingly neat home a cursory glance.  “Lovely home you have here.  Is that…

Chopan?”

 

Jakob smiled, “You know your classics Lynes.”

 

I shrug, and sit down at a small dining room table.  He sits down across me, “You know my fees Lynes.  Just tell me who and I’ll get it done.”

 

I tug at the end of my sleeves not meeting his eyes, “The Alliance Intelligence.”

“Done.”

 

My eyes instantly go up to meet his, “Really? Well then, I need information on general operations and positions within the hierarchy.”

 

He nodded, “I’ll get it done.”

 

This _is a badass guy._ “I’ll get you half tomorrow then.  See you at school, Jakob.”

 

As I get into my car I can’t help but think that this is the end of something.  Like… a really, really _bad_ story.  

 

                      

* * *

 

 

A week passes me by as I wait.  

 

“Okay… favorite senior?”  This was Jan, my ‘best friend’.  Honestly I just tolerate her for appearances,  she is one of the most _annoying_ people I’ve ever met.

 

I make a show of thought, “Definitely Mike.” _He’s attractive right?_ She smiled, and I know chose right.

 

Her mouth opened but, _thank god for Jakob_ , the hacker came up to me, “Hey, Lynes. I was wondering if you had notes from sixth?”

 

I nod, “Yeah, but they’re in my locker. I can get them to you if you don’t mind going a little out of the way?”

 

“Not at all. Thanks Lynes.”

 

I give a slight nod towards Jan and change courses towards my locker.  Jakob follows.  Once we get somewhere relatively private the exchange was made with no fuss. We go our separate ways.  

                    

* * *

 

When I get home I find it surprisingly empty,  the only light on from General Lynes’ study.  I ignore it and go to my room. The drive is plugged into my computer and I see that Jakob got me a file for recruits.  I glean over the information.   _Yes._ It's exactly what I want.  Information about the various tasks of the many positions, the training, and protocol.

 

And… I’ve got to admit. It sounds perfect for me.  Now how to go about joining.  Unlike the rest of the packets, there was no holo-id.  I turn back towards the computer with a frown.  A puzzle for later, I look at my clock. It’s dinner time.

 

I run down the stairs, Martha’s cooking fueling speed that only came on tuesdays. What? Her meatloaf was amazing.  I stopped short when I saw someone-no not someone-the dude from the Intelligence pamphlet. In my spot.  Both Max and Martha looked up at me, though Max had a look of anticipation rather than Martha’s shifting look of concern.  Understandable.  The last time one of the General’s work friends sat in my spot I ended up making morbid jokes (all of them excellent) until they literally would have let me use them as foot stool if I asked.  I will admit intimidating a full on adult at the age of five was one of my proudest moments.  

 

Anywhosies,  I sat down at the table, food already put out and table set. The General nodded in my direction, “Hendrick, Adeline my youngest.”

 

Hendrick smiled politely, “A pleasure, Miss Lynes.”

 

I returned the smile, “The pleasure is mine, Director.”  Did he know that I had a mechanical genius hack into his systems?  

 

Maxwell, Martha, and the Director engaged in inane small talk, giving me no answers.  Max and I were left in our own devices.  And… Max is now currently seeing how many meatballs he can fit in his mouth.  I am officially the only sane person at this table. _I wonder if there’s an synonym for ‘Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious’ hmmm, maybe…. Charming? Well-spoken? I bet I could look this up._ A voice takes my attention.

 

“What do you think Adeline?”

 

“I’m sorry? I was in my thoughts.”

 

Hendrick asked again, “What do you think about the recent cyber attacks in our systems?  We’re worried its an internal matter.”

 

I look in his eyes, and I can tell the question is deliberate, _he knows_ , good news: I was amazing at hiding feelings even before I died. Bad news: I’ve run out of cheese puns.  And the director knows.  That too.

 

I allow a slightly nervous smile, and a surprised ‘oh’, “Well… it’s concerning, certainly, if someone in your department isn’t completely loyal to the Alliance.” I pause to take a bite of the food on my plate, it doesn’t taste gouda (not _completely_ out of cheese puns), but I manage to look him in the eyes.  

 

“And what would you do, if you were in my situation?”

 

Is he... Testing me? _Oh it is on._ I allow my smile to grow flattered, for the benefit of the people that aren’t him. “Well…. It is hardly my place to say director, but if it were my call I would fuss out the traitors.” I give my eyes a pointed edge, “And then fill the empty people with people who are actually competent.”

 

Hendrick leaned back in his chair, “That is of course under the assumption that the traitors were incompetent.”

 

I shrug, “If they were caught how competent could the people in this _hypothetical_ situation be?”

 

Hendrick nodded at my point, looking slightly impressed, I think I passed, sweet. And then he easily turned the conversation to more inane talk.  Max continued to try and beat his record of thirteen meatballs.  And I continued to find synonyms for ‘Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious’.

 

I was given the job of walking him out the door and before he left he said, “You know Miss Lynes… I know of a wonderful summer camp just outside of the city.” he handed me a much heavier, but familiar looking packet, “Perhaps you should consider going.”

 

I nod, “Of course.”

 

He was gone.

 

* * *

I go to my room, and quickly go over the packet.  Inside the packet was an extensive information pamphlet for the Intelligence, _that's right, take that me. I_ can _go through with this plan that will most certainly get me killed._ Oh there was also, another smaller pamphlet for an incredibly dull looking summer camp. _Intelligence boot camp.  Spy camp? I’m going to scamp!_

                    

* * *

 

The next morning I bring it up and convince my caretakers to pay for it.  

 

The summer came and I was off to camp. Or as I call it: Scamp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you know that moment when you commit to something by making it public even though you're not sure what that something is yet? Yeah so do I. But seriously, please don't take this seriously. I mean like it if you like it. And tell me. I love it when people tell me. But I just want to warn you that my plans for this are incredibly vague and my free time and short bursts of magical writing energy usually don't line up. Which sucks. On that happy note, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	2. Training and Other Badassery

  _Not·an·dum (noun)  
_

_Something to be noted or observed_

 

They had us lined up, it wasn’t even dawn yet.  The man in charge wasn’t in some stiff pose, but he set me on edge anyway.  

 

“Hello, little spylings! Welcome to intelligence training!” he walked down our line, peering into everyone’s eyes. “Now, I’d like to say that this will be an easy, that the training to be one of ours is as simple as learning how to lie with a straight face, but that would be a lie!”  he raised his voice slightly, catching many off-guard. “Your training  here at camp will be the hardest, mostly because we want to weed out the weaklings.” he stopped at me, _oh. That’s a lot of face._ I could tell that his dark eyes had a hint of blue.  He peered at me a little longer than the others, as if trying to figure me out, _Good luck Mr. Too Close.  Not even I can figure me out._ He moved away and finished his speech about how this would be hard and please don’t tell anyone ever or we will hunt you down and murder you.  It was a very lovely speech.

 

Actual training didn’t start until after lunch, and even then I’d hardly call it training.  More… busy work.  They would have us copy reports, sign papers, and generally just not do anything  exciting.  I’m glad I was mentally older than sixteen, or else I would have died of boredom.

 

It was two weeks in when they finally announced that we would be doing combat drills.  Mr. Too Close, or as he went, Heron, grouped us into types.  People that could shoot a gun, and the ones who could.  After a moment of swaying I went to those who couldn’t (I could shoot a solitary target, but not a moving one.  And I certainly wasn’t good enough for a combat situation.)  To my surprise there were more people in ‘could’ area.  He looked on at these groups with consideration.  

 

He clapped his hands together, “Okay then.  Time for my favorite competition,” he pointed to one of the people in the ‘could’ group, a golden haired boy with long hair, “You! And…” he turned pointed at me, “You.” _Damn._

 

The boy looks me up and down, clearly unimpressed, I simply nod.  Heron looks at us, “The rules are simple, the person who hits the most accurately wins,  your turn is over when you clear the clip. Understand?”

 

We both nod.  But when it comes time to step forward I let Goldilocks go first.  He does so, with a swagger.  He picks up a gun, and shoots in quick succession, he hits a fair amount, but misses just as much.  When he returns he looks at Heron, who nodded.

 

I then go forward, pick up the gun and without thinking go to mimick Goldilocks quick shots.  But, I stop myself, remembering Anderson’s training. He told me to go slow.  So instead, I aim and then shoot. A hit. I do it again. And again.  The clip was clear.  My pace was slower, but I did get significantly more hits than my opponent.  

 

When I walk back I don’t look towards Heron,  instead I look at Goldilocks and give him the same unimpressed look he gave me.  Though I did it much better.

Heron nodded at our target approvingly before looking at us, “So what’s your names?”

 

Goldilocks puffed up his chest and said, “Dylan Cain.”

 

I rolled my eyes and held out my hand, “Lynes.” he took it and gave a firm shake.

 

“Well, Dylan. Lynes. You’ve both just got yourselves babysitting duty.” he nodded towards the other recruits, “Help them learn.”

 

And so we did.  Goldilocks got the group who didn’t know, I got the group who said they could.  It was lovely.  Lots of ego crushing.  After the activity we were sent to the mess and then the day preceded as it did for the last couple of weeks.  

 

Nothing of true interest happened after that, more copying followed by random intervals of basic combat training. The summer ended quickly and school started again.

 

* * *

 

School was as ever, boring.  Don’t get me wrong, I love learning, but everything else was annoying.  People were annoying.  And they were teenagers,  the overdramatic bane of my existence.  The only person remotely interesting was Jakob, and I couldn’t be seen around him without compromising the persona I crafted to evade attention.  

 

Even worse, Martha and the General were doubling down on their attempts to be close to me.  Which for Martha, isn’t so unexpected; but Maxwell and I had a perfectly distant relationship.  I found it concerning.  

 

In all it was an awful school year filled with filled with insistent guardians and idiotic friends.  I couldn’t wait for camp.  

 

* * *

 

Heron was there to greet us when we entered the large gate that cut off the camp from the rest of the world. “Ah, spylings! It’s so great to see you all again!” A few straightened at the sound of Heron’s bright voice.  He gestured to a communal message board, “Your cabin assignments will be on here.”

 

* * *

 

 

Training was ruthless; unlike the previous year Heron did not hold back.  Waking us up during various times of day or night for weapons practice, or making us skip meals and then forcing us to go through intense physical training.  About a third of our group was gone before half the summer was up.  I was eating in the mess when a series of names were blasted through the speakers, “Dylan Cain, Madeline Russo, Alex Sing, Justine Boon, report to the Camp leader’s personal cabin immediately.”

 

Goldilocks got up instantly, heading for the door like a puppy calling for his master.  The other two did the same, but not as quickly.  

 

One of the less mature trainees said, “Ooohhh someones in trouble.”

 

The group came back twenty minutes later, and sat at a separate table deep in discussion.  

 

* * *

 

Several days later he message board had five lists, everyone was grouped up, under the command of each chosen leader.  The last was empty.  While people piled to see where they were placed I waited at the outskirts until the pile around the board was clearer.  I didn’t hear Heron approach, “None of them wanted you.”

 

I shrug, “Not a people person.”

 

Heron smirked, “I can tell.  Of course, it wasn’t really a setback.  We needed five groups anyway.” _Wait. What?_ I tense at the implication, “Everyone has a group, am I supposed to lead Casper the Friendly Ghost?”

 

I got a raised brow in return, “I chose all of you because you each have leadership potential.  And half of leadership is building a team and being able to keep it maintained.  Whether that means making sure its people are loyal enough to stay or building trust in its members.”

 

“So I have to steal people away from the others? Do they know this?”

 

Heron shrugged, “I’m sure they’ll figure it out quickly.  You have five weeks, all groups will be tested then. If you don’t have at least seven members by then you and whomever you do have will be dismissed.”

 

After everyone learned who they were under the command of we were all dismissed for free time.  I sigh and stretch my arms as I walk into my cabin, to my surprise there was already someone inside. _Did he ever leave?_ His muted red hair was messy and he seemed to be tampering with a training gun.

 

I lean against a bunk and watch him. _Was his name…. Jessie? Jayden? I know it started with a ‘J’._ A startled gasp pulled me out of my thoughts, “Sorry! I-I wasn’t doing-I mean…. This isn’t-”

 

I laugh quietly, “And I thought _I_ could put my foot in my mouth. It’s okay.”

 

 He didn’t relax, and his eyes instantly went to the ground.  After a moment of silence he spoke in a whisper, “What was the meeting about?” _So he_ wasn’t _there._ I sensed opportunity.

 

“We were split into groups of four.”

 

J looked appalled though it appeared as though he hated his shoes, “All of us?  The groups must be huge.”

 

I shrug, “You could join the fifth. There isn’t any people in that one. Not yet anyway.”

 

“Is that allowed?”

 

“Yep.”

 

A moment of silence, and his voice was now barely a whisper, “You think the leader would want me?”

 

“Well considering the fact that you’ve managed to steal and tamper with a training weapon, which is….” I search for the right word, “cool. I’d say that I’d be willing to take you in.” he looked up sharply, “Though you have to know that if I don’t get enough people then we won’t make it in training.”

 

J didn’t seem to care, because he quickly hid his gun and transported himself at my left, “I’ve been watching people. If we go to the mess I could tell you about potential team-mates!” after the burst of excitement he seemed to realize how abrupt that was; he stepped back and his eyes went to the floor, his voice once again a whisper, “I-If that’s what you want. That is.”

 

The display reminded me of myself before I died, I smiled kindly, and held out my hand, “How ‘bout names first? Call me Lynes.”

 

He took my hand and loosey shook it, “Mace.” _Shit I was way off._ “Nice to meet you.”

 

I nod, “Now, the mess.  You think you could tell me about a few people we could get to our group?”

 

He quickly nods.

 

“Well then, let’s get going.”

 

On our way there I noticed that one of the lists looked shorter than the others. And mine had a name.

 

* * *

 

Two weeks later I had four people. J helped get Amythest, as I had dubbed her for her lovely dyed hair and sharp features.  He also put Lyonel White in my sights, who had managed to hide his biotics from every other student _except_ J.  The last was one I found on my own, Whistle, a street kid that was found by Heron.  I heard him arguing with Justine about the trust exercises that she was making everyone do.  

 

My thoughts before I swooped in and stole Whistle literally from under Justine’s nose were the simple but inspiring _I’m going to piss so many people off._ And I did.

 

The mess had been transformed, it actually reminded me of the setup on _Harry Potter_ with a table set up for the leaders and five tables below with the people.  I never sat at my designated seat though.  Instead I sat with my small band of misfits.

 

_Oh my god. I have a band of misfits.  I’m a video game protagonist now. I’m Hawke! Or the Warden… Oh my GOD! I could have one of those as a code name. Wait--no, stop fangirling over yourself. That’s not cool._

 

“Are you okay?” I looked at Amethyst and smiled reassuringly, “Fine.” I cough, “So anyone got any leads for our next additions?”

 

Whistle shook his head, “I don’t think any will come from Justine, she’s been cracking down after you took me right in front of her.” he then smirked at his wording, much to Amethyst’s disgust.

 

Lyonel, (AKA SW, which is short for Space Wizard) joined in, “Same with Alex, Amethyst and I were both from their group.  They don’t want to lose another.”

 

I sigh, “But Goldilocks and Princess aren’t still taking us seriously?”

 

J nodded, “Correct. Neither consider you a threat, I say the best course of action is to recruit from one of them.”

 

I nod, “J and Whistle I want you to look for potential candidates, tell me if you find something.  Lyonel I want you to see if you can arrange a meeting between me and Justine.”

 

Amethyst tilted her head, “What are we doing?”

 

I let a smirk tug at my lips, “Something overly-ambitious and incredibly stupid.”

 

* * *

 

 

“This _is_ stupid.”

I shush her and continue digging. _No.. no.. god no.. Ah here it is._ I download the data, then handed it to Amythest so that she could make sure no one else could do what I did.  We slipped out without anyone noticing.  

 

* * *

 

 

Two more weeks and I had all but one person.  

 

My group was currently arguing about Batarian rock music.  My focus was trained at the empty seat that belonged to Goldilocks.  And a hush fell over his group when his second sat at his seat instead. Goldilocks was tense when he walked in after the usurper, fist balled next to him. But he didn’t go up to him, or even his group.  He got his food and then sat down right in front of me.

 

My table, all of them completely oblivious to what was happening, blinked at the sudden and forefull entrance.

 

He stabbed his food and stuffed it in his mouth.  I continued eating my own as if nothing changed.  And I silently order my group to do the same.  Their conversation continued, albeit with less enthusiasm.

 

Dylan looked up from his food at me, and I nod. _At least he doesn’t want to talk._

 

* * *

 

 

The week was filled with hesitant trust being extended.  

 

* * *

 

“You realize we’re going to fail whatever test Heron chooses to give us?”

 

“Don’t be such a downer, Lyo, I’m sure Lynes has a plan.”

 

“I agree with our gem, Lynes has a plan.”

 

“I w-wouldn’t be so sure. She would’ve told us, by now.”

 

“Enough!”

 

They all quiet at Goldilocks voice. I walk in the room. “Heron just gave us the information.”

 

They all look up at me, “It’ll be difficult. But I have a plan.”

 

* * *

 

It was basically a game of capture the flag. We were given little information, but I got the map of the area.   _Or would stole be a better word?_ J, Dylan, and I came up with a solid plan, aided by information with Amethyst's friends from her old group.  When the night of the game came we were ready.

 

* * *

 

“Lyonel keep that door closed!”  The air around him glowed, even as there was a pounding at the door. Amethyst growled when the console turned red, indicating that she failed, again. “It’s not possible to hack this!” she looked at me, “What do we do?” I furrow my brows, _Heron assured us that it was to our current skills._ I look around and my breath stopped, “He lied.” I turn my head, and in a slightly opened closet, was the flag.

 

* * *

 

Heron noted my group, all of us winded from the run. He held out his hand, I give the prize to him.  “Congratulations.” I nod.  The celebration in the mess had a lot of alcohol involved, and to preserve the dignity of my people I won’t tell you more about it.

 

* * *

 

And just like that summer was over as was school. Max came from college to be there, so it wasn’t completely boring. I moved out to go to the Intelligence HQ for the final year of my training.  It was the last leg and most painful, no one wanted Alliance secrets to go out, all their agents were trained to resist torture and various poisons.  We were also taught some more of the finer points of manipulation and combat.

 

I was nineteen when I graduated. It was the year 2174, I had nine years until Eden Prime. A familiar voice cut through my musings, “Your first assignment is at Palaven.”

 

For once in this lifetime I am truly surprised, “What?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW this chapter was a lot. And I wanted to add more before I started writing, but it was getting to be too much. There's so much I have to cover before the actual story starts it makes me kind of frustrated, I intended the beginning of Mass Effect to be on the third chapter. But, Palaven (which will be 2 years in the story) essential to the future story and afterward is the Citadel (6 years) . And both places, even at their bare bones, is worth one chapter worth of content, more if I wasn't so intent on actually starting the story , I didn't mean for there to be so much background gahhhh. This make my head hurt. Anyway, I promise that the ending of chapter 4 will be the beginning of the actual game. Writer's honor.


	3. Bacon and Other Highlights of My Unfourtunate Life

**De·mer·ge**

**to immerse; to plunge**

 

Heron’s debriefing was mostly ignored for in favor of my thoughts.  The gist of it was that I was protecting human interests in a classified, but joint project with the turians.  I would be going to Illium and from there taking the shuttle that goes to Palaven. _Palaven. Didn’t Garrus say that Virmire was similar to Palaven in game? At least it’ll be pretty._ An annoucer’s voice cuts through my thoughts, “We have arrived. Please enjoy your visit at Illium.”

 

Illium is…. There is no way to describe the vastness. What’s seen in the game is a only a small picture of the real thing.  I walk forward-

 

And crash right into a turian.  My instant reaction, learned from a previous lifetime of clummsiness, is to apologize and check if I had to help pick whatever was dropped. However, this wasn’t the case so I look up or rather I have to crane my neck _damn, curse Unreal Engine and the lack of height differences_ to look at the turian. We blink at each other for a moment. It only takes me a moment to recognise this paticular turian _holy pizza, that’s Garrus Vakarian!_

 

After a moment of floundering I decided to apologize again, “Sorry, I should’ve been watching where I was going.” _What’s he doing? Is he going to work for C-Sec? How on earth (Illium)  do you greet someone you’ve read smutty fanfiction about?_ His feet (claws? Feet talons?)  shifted in a decidedly human action of nervousness, “No, I should have been watching.”H _oly pizza god! Holy pizza god!_ With that simple awkward interaction we shuffle around each other and after I glance back at him (only once I promise) and walk to my next shuttle. _HOLY FUCKING PIZZA GOD! That’s Garrus Vakarian, the actual real life Garrus Vakarian. Shit. I’m doomed when get on the Normandy. I’ll die of a nerdgasm._

 

* * *

 

The rest of the trip to the shuttle to Palaven was boring, and the ride was even more boring.  With only a brief pause of boringness to realize that I would have to go to the small bathroom to put on my new envrio-suit.  It was black and green with a silver trim, the face covering part was similar to the Quarian style with the darkened glass and sloping helmet.  Though, unlike the Quarian there was no decorative swirls or anything really that was aesthetically pleasing. _Strange to think that this will be what I wear on the planet of tall people._ It was shortly after this that I landed on Palaven.

 

* * *

 

“Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner Heron!?”

 

“I didn’t think it was that pressing.”

 

I roll my eyes and huff, “I’ll be living with another person, for who knows how long and you didn’t think it was important?”

 

“No.”

 

I give him an annoyed look and he smirks. _Smirks. As if this is funny. As if this isn’t the end of the world!_ “Its not the end of the world Lynes.”   _Oh that fucking bastard. Making this not a big deal._ But I can’t say that out loud so I sigh, “If you say so.”

 

“Your roommate will be another member of the project you’re managing. A turian by the codename ‘Ambassador’. I don’t-”  

 

“What’s my code name?”

 

He blinked, “What?”

 

“You have a code name. My people have the names I gave them. What’s mine?”

 

“Is this relevant?”   _Oops._ “No, sorry. Please continue.”

 

“I don’t know the turian’s real name, but she is supposedly known for her tolerance. Hence the code name, I suppose.”   

 

The elevator doors opened, “Well this is me I guess.”

 

Heron raised a brow, “Try not to look too eager Lynes.”

 

“I’d be more eager if I was living alone.”  Heron ended the call. _Bastard._

 

When I go in the first thing I note is the turian… cooking? I sniff the air, and smell bacon. _What the hell?_  I cough. And the turian jumped, “Oh! You’re here!” She turned off the oven and put the last of the (incredibly) burnt bacon, _the turian is making me bacon,_ on a plate. “I’m Solana.” My eyes and thoughts dart from her food to my roommate with such quickness that I’m sure I made her jump. _She has his face paint._ “Solana Vakarian,” She finished nervously.

 

I smile, more genuinely than it would have been if she had been anyone else _can’’t see your smile Lynes_ , “Adeline Lynes.” I hold out my hand, “It’s nice to meet you.” _I’m going to be living with Garrus Vakarian’s sister. Could my day get any better?_ She surges forward to grab my hand, shoulders looking a lot less looser than a second ago. “I made you food. I was thinking that we could have lunch, get to know each other?”

 

“That sounds nice Solana.”

 

Her cobalt eyes brightened and mandibles flared. _A smile?_ And she went back to her, _no_ **_our_ ** , small kitchen to fix our plates. I put my bag near the front door and set the table.

 

Dinner was surprisingly good, though it was mostly breakfast foods.  Solana seemed like a good person, and once she got past her nervousness, (something that she apologized for, apparently I was the first human she’d ever met. I told her that she was the first turian I’d met, which is technically true) she was quite outgoing.  When dinner was over she showed me my room and left me be.

 

I change into my sleep clothes and settle into my large bed.

 

* * *

 

**_Year 1_ **

 

I will admit it took me a ridiculously long amount of time realize what exactly I was managing. I mean a _ridiculously_ long time.  You’d think someone of my obvious superior intelligence would realize that there couldn’t be more than one joint human-turian project. But you’d be wrong. It took me most of the day to realize what exactly I was working on. Can you blame me though? My pessimistic outlook blinded my iditoic nerd self from realizing that I could actually be working on  the Normandy.  I mean, Solana Vakarian _and_ the beautiful hunk of overpriced metal that was the Normandy.  Honestly that’s just… _God. I am doomed when I actually help Commander Shepard._ _With Joker and Wrex and… everything. I will be a red, stuttering mess._

 

The job itself was boring.  I spent days doing paperwork and-note my disgusted shiver-delagating . But on the plus side that gave me a lot of time to explore the base.  

 

“Human. Octavia.”

 

I blink out of my own thoughts and turn from my conversation to smile at the stiff turian. And then I remember that he can’t see it. So referring to the news coming from a nearby t.v  talking about air pollution on some mining planet I say, “You know what they say about air pollution right?”

 

He sighed, only a few weeks in and he’s already tired of my jokes, “No. I don’t.”

 

“It’s a mist-demenor.”

 

I chuckle and so does Octavia, not Cnalius though. _Damn. Thought I had him this time._ Octavia, taller than most turians and incredibly badass, addressed her second, “Something to report?”

 

“Yes. The scientists have reached a breakthrough in their research and need the approval of both managers continue their research.”   _Well that was fast._ Cnalius handed Octavia a datapad who after a moment of reviewing it, put her signature down.  I did the same.  “Would you like to stay for lunch Cnalius?”

 

He blinked at Octavia’s offer, “Ah actually there was one more-”

 

“Octavia.” A turian walked through the door and past Cnalius. _Rude, that’s my pet project._ “How are you?”  Octavia tensed and her subvocals hummed in a way that I even _I_ knew was bad, “Fine, Terus. How are you?”

 

Mr. Douche smirked predatorily, “Better now that I can talk to you about this… serious situation that has come to my attention.” he looked looked towards me and the predatory, ‘I’m an ass’ smirk grew. “Hello.” he held out his hand and squared his shoulders in a domineering way, “I am Terus. The one who proposed the project.”

 

Now, before I continue I should tell you that in my old life I was short. And with my current body not exactly the same, but similar to my original, that hasn’t changed. So after a lifetime (or two)  of making too many snarky comments at inappropriate moments I can say that I’m pretty much immune to tall people using height as an intimidation tool.

 

Which is why instead of cowering for Mr. Douche; I lean back in my chair, ignoring his hand, tilt my head up to meet his eyes, and give a shit-eatting lopsided grin (even though I know he can’t see it.) before saying, “Adeline Lynes.  The one who makes the decsions.” I nod towards Octavia, “With her approval of course. Can’t have a human making in _complete_ control. There’d be way too many explosions.” In the corner of my eye Octavia’s mandible was fluttering. Terus blinked and dropped his hand before clearing his throat, “Right, Octavia there was that… business to discuss?” The woman nodded, and got up, “Of course Terus.”

 

All three turian’s left the room. And I was left to my thoughts. _Today was a good day. Had a nice lunch with Octavia, crossed pollution jokes of my list, and caught Mr. Douche off guard._

 

* * *

 

“So… I was researching human traditions today at work.”

 

I tsk, not looking away from the TV, “You realize you just told one of your bosses that you weren’t working right?”

 

She rolled her eyes. Or I think she did. Rolling her eyes would be Solana-ey thing to do. And sat down next to me on the couch handing the popcorn as she did so, “Humans celebrate the day they were born…”

 

The warning bells in my brain started sounding off I  deliberately keep looking at the TV, “Yes.”

 

“When do you celebrate yours?”

 

“On the day that I was born. Obviously.”

 

I still wasn’t looking at her, but another Solana-ey thing to do would be narrowing her eyes. And maybe taking my popcorn. My grip tightens in anticipation. “No. I mean… I read that most of the time, in human culture, friends know those things about each other. I’m twenty-three years old and I was born on the human equivalent of June, 10th. And you?”

 

I sigh and turn towards her _. I’m 113 years old I managed to live this long because I died at the very depressing age of ninety-three, on the phone, with someone I think I cared about but can’t seem to remember who exactly. Only to be stuck in another body so I can fix the BioWare producers mess of an endgame. Or die in the Reaper invasion._ “I am currently nineteen, but, in exactly five minutes when the clock strikes twelve I will be twenty.”

 

Her eyes widened, “And you didn’t tell me?! I was going to throw you a party!” she huffed, “Now I have to find a resturant where you can eat actual human food and not wear that suit in less than twenty-four hours!” she got up, muttering and began doing exactly that with her omnitool. _So much for a movie._

 

* * *

 

There are many things I can deal with in the morning. Really. But, I did not expect Mr. Douche and Octavia to be in my office. _Mr. Douche is in Octavia’s chair._ I smile, and then mentally sigh when I remember he can’t see it. So instead loosen my posture to be more welcoming, that way I wouldn’t have to say anything.  After I sit down at my desk is when I address Terus, “That’s Octavia’s chair.”

 

His brow plates furrowed, “I’m sorry?”

 

“That’s Octavia’s chair.” I gesture to the one next to it, “Guests sit on that one.” Terus who looked towards Octavia, she simply shrugged. After a moments of hesitation he got up and moved, Octavia sat in her chair and everything was right in the world. _Good. Now I can deal with everything._ “We need you to go undercover.”

 

_Or not._

 

Octavia, her white markings a great contrast from her darker plate color, actually growled at Terus’ audacity. _Is audacity the right word? I mean I am an Alliance Agent, but if its related to the project…._ Octavia stopped that train of thought, “It’s not related to the project, so you don’t have to do anything  officially."

 

“I’m sensing a but...”

 

She nodded, “But, the target is human. And she’s staying in a hotel for aliens who don’t want to wear a suit constantly.”

 

 _My life is a series of convenient coincidences. But, I’m not complaining. _I cross my arms and lean back into my chair, “You realize I have literally no field experience?”

 

Terus jumped in, “You won’t be recognized by her. And we’ll have one of our own covering you.” _Well then…_ “Why the hell not? I’ll help.”

 

* * *

 

The hotel was fancy. I would have to spend my whole life saving with my current salary. And my room! It was bigger than Solana and I’s apartment combined with our neighbors. The best part was that for the first time since I got on this planet I wasn’t wearing some type of suit, and the closet provided a large amount of clothing. I quickly get out of my suit and change into some actual clothes; more specifically a nice lovely pair of jeans with a simple white tee. _Ohh I like that jacket too._

 

The door separating the bedroom from the main room opened and Solana walked in, “You don’t have to do anything until tonight, so I figured we could…. Adeline?” _Oh yeah… never seen me out of the suit. Where did I put that?_ I pick up the suit from the floor and say, “Well I’m not Spartacus.”

 

She edged close to me and blinked, “I don’t get that reference.”

 

I jump on the bed and get comfy, “I know right, media has really gone downhill.  So cheeseburgers and a movie while we wait?”

 

“Yeah. Can I… um. Would you mind if? I mean-”

 

I put my hand on hers, the same way I always did whenever she couldn’t get her words out about something. She jumped slightly, and then poked me lightly on the arm, “Humans are very soft aren’t they?” I can’t help but snort, “Just noticing that now, are you?”

 

“Well, I couldn’t tell with the suit.” she said.

 

“I hadn’t noticed.”

 

Solana snorted, “Ass.”

 

“You know it.”

 

* * *

 

Four hours and several, amazing hamburger sliders later it was time for us to get in position. Basically I had to get her into my room in front of a window so that Solana could take her out from a rooftop away.  When I enter the bar I find it surprisingly full, _but I suppose if I didn’t have to wear the suit and had the money I would spend a lot of time here too._ I find a table, slightly more secluded than the others and get comfortable.

 

It wasn’t even thirty minutes before _she_ sat across from me. Legs crossed and mouth quirked in a smirk that made her seem more attractive then when she walked in. _It’s a shame she’s wasting it on me._  Her dark green eyes were filled with a familiar curiosity. I put down the reports and give a polite smile, “Hi. Is there something I can help you with miss...”

 

“Dyanna.”

 

“Miss Dyanna. How can I help you?”

 

 **‘** **_That’s our target Lynes.’_ ** Terus’ voice whispered in my ear.

 

She looked around and then leaned in slightly, “I want to know how you planned to get me in your room.”

 

A jolt of fear, slight panic and then… an internal calming breath. _You are 113 years old.  You can deal with an instantly blown cover._ I shrug slightly, “I think they expected me to seduce you.”

 

She quirked a brow, “But?”

 

“I don’t seduce people. It’s too… ehh.”

 

Dyanna laughed, “So what would’ve you done?”

 

“Nothing? I think that would’ve been the most efficient way to lure you into our trap.”

 

“Huh. Clever, actually.”

 

There was a moment of silence between us, and then I speak, my smile hopeful, “I don’t suppose you would come to my room and allow my best friend to kill you?”

 

I could see her curiosity grow, “No. But I can give you the information that they want. No death required.”

 

 _How nice._ “What’s the price?”

 

“Clever _and_ cynical. That’s never a good combination.”  she slid a datapad to me from her side of the table and then got up with easy grace. For a moment I consider shooting her. But… _Two men in the back with their fingers at the trigger. One at the door. She planned for that._ “Miss Dyanna, it was a pleasure meeting you. I’m practically enchanted.”

 

Her smirk turned into something slightly more genuine, the gleam in her eyes were as bright as a star, “Agent.”

 

When she walks out the door is when I address the people on the other side of the earpiece, “Information is acquired. The target escaped.”

 

**‘Understood.’**

 

* * *

  


**_Year 2_ **

 

“Cnalius…”

 

“Human.”

 

I lean forward with a determined smirk, “Did you hear about the guy who got his whole left side cut off? He’s all right now.”

 

Cnalius sighed, “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

 

“Not really.” The elevator stopped and we both got out, “You know, I’d tell you a chemistry joke, but I know I wouldn’t get a reaction.”

 

There could’ve been _literal_ crickets. _No? Hmmm…._ “I’m reading a book about anti-gravity. It’s impossible to put down.”

 

“Hello ma’am.” Octavia looked up as we entered her office; her mandibles flared in a smile, “Cnalius. Adeline. How is everything?”

 

“Just fine ma’am.” I huff and cross my arms petulantly, “Cnalius doesn’t think I’m punny.” I look at him out of the corner of my eye, _not even a twitch._ Octavia ‘hmmed’ sympathetically, “How awful.”

 

“I know!”

 

Cnalius rolled his eyes, “On a more important matter, the scientists can decide on what the finished project should be named.”

 

I plop down on my seat, “Why are they even thinking about that? Half of them won’t be here when the project is complete.”

 

“The head scientist wants his name to be on the ship. So he claimed naming rights. The rest did not agree.”

 

Octavia sighed, “What is your recommendation Cnalius?”

 

“Decide the name now, and prevent further trouble. Here is the form.”

 

_Wait. Is this-_

 

“What do you think Adeline?”

 

 _Oh my fucking god. Holy Pizza God. I get to name the fucking NORMANDY. Fuck._ I cough slightly, “Uh.. how ‘bout the, I don’t know… Normandy?”

 

Octavia nodded slightly, and then signed the datapad. So do I. _I just named it. I named it. I just… I wish I could tell someone._ “If that was all the business I think I should get to my own office.” I nod and then walk to my office. Where I may or may not have squealed.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the day was spent in a haze. Me doing all required work with a dronish efficiency. It wasn’t until I was getting ready to go did I break out of it, and it wasn’t because the day was _finally_ over.

 

My omnitool beeped, and when I answered the call it was Heron, “Well if it isn’t my favorite spyling. I have good news! You have new orders.”

 

 _What!_ “Well, don’t leave me in suspense Heron.  What are they?”

 

“You’re going to begin looking for a suitable ambassador, to manage the project. You have three weeks.”

 

For once I’m glad no one could see my face, it was easier to nod and say, “Of course sir. I’ll begin right away.”

 

And he was gone. “You’re… leaving?”

 

I look up, “Solana. Uh… yes. Three weeks. Apparently.”

 

“Will I have to live with your replacement?”

 

I laugh quietly, “No, I doubt they’ll but an Ambassador through our little social experiment.”

  


“Right.”

 

We were silent for a moment, before she gestured out the door, “Let's go home.”

 

“That sounds nice.”

 

The drive back was silent. Well, right up until we got to the door. A huge, ‘SURPRISE’ often ruins such awkward silences. I sniff the air, and smell bacon. _What the hell?_  I look at Solana, she shrugged helplessly, “I made bacon for your birthday?” At the moment all I could do is chuckle and walk in, “Of course you did Solana.” Coworkers and a few other aquatancies wished me a happy birthday.

 

It wasn’t until Cnalius and Octavia showed up did I really entertain conversation, I first spoke to Cnalius, “I held a door open for a clown today. I thought it was a nice jester.” He sighed. Octavia laughed, “Happy birthday Adeline.” I nod in response.

 

The party was fun. There was drinking, jokes, and food. When everyone left I slumped my shoulders in relief, still munching on Solana’s bacon. She came out of the kitchen with a box, “I have a gift for you.”

 

“Solana… you didn’t have to.”

 

Her mandibles flared, “But I wanted to.”

 

I sigh and take the small box and open it. Inside was an… earpiece? I look up at her questioningly. “It’s designed to let you hear subvocals. Of all kinds. I figured it would be useful.”

 

“Thank you. I would put it on but...” I gesture to my suit.

 

“Of course. Are you staying up? I got the new Blasto movie.”

 

“Sounds fun.”

 

* * *

 

The next three weeks pass in a research filled blur. So when it was finally over and Solana and I were at the shuttle to Ilium it didn’t seem real. “I’m going to call you as often as I can.”

 

“Of course you are. I’m too amazing to be forgotten.”

 

She grabbed my arm and gently pulled me into a hug, “I’ll miss you.”

 

I return the hug and say, “I’d miss me too.”

 

She laughed, “Ass.”

 

“You know it.”

 

I pull away and walk into the shuttle, with one last look back at Solana. When the shuttle takes off I feel… sad. Once we were out of the system I went into the small bathroom and changed out of my enviro-suit. I put on a gray tee and jeans, a black leather jacket gifted to me for this very moment from Octavia. I rummage in my bag and pull out Solana’s birthday gift, and put the earpiece on. It was silver and almost made my ear look like it had metal tubing woven into my ear.  I sigh. _Well. That’s the end of that._

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I finally finished it! This one took forever to write. One more until the game starts!
> 
> EDIT
> 
> I just noticed I didn't put a word on the top I fixed it, and I promise it won't happen again.


	4. We Break the Regular Title Style to Tell You an unBEARable Pun.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You'll note the new Mild Language Tag

 

_Thanatopsis_

_[ than-uh-top-sis] _

_ A view or contemplation of death  
_

 

**Year 1  
**

_I have got to stop getting myself in these situations._ “ADELINE!” I brace myself as a familiar purple haired figure runs into me and begins to crush me, “What’re you doing here? It's been so long! OH I can’t wait to tell Goldielocks you’re back!” I shift away from her, gather my bearings and sigh, “Hello Amethyst. I’m here because I was told to be. It has been a very long time, hasn’t it? And I take it that means Goldielocks is here as well?”

 

Someone in the back snickered as I calmly went down her spiel, she has the grace to look sheepish for a few seconds, “Wait. You’ll be working here?”

 

The same person who snickered now gave a derisive snort, “Feels more like twiddling your thumbs while we wait for the aliens to chase us out of the Citadel.”

 

I look towards him, judging by the food on his plate, he was the one who through the mashed potatoes. My eyes left his plate to meet his brown eyes; annoyance at the situation, amusement, probably at Amethyst’s scene, and intense, but not uncomfortably so. I turn my full attention back to my overexcited friend, “How are you?” she smiled even wider than I thought possible as she graced me with a detailed explanation of her current emotional state.  All the while piling food on a plate and pushing it back towards the man. He sighed and ate.

 

It was a few hours before there was a lull long enough for me to introduce a new topic, “Where’s the rest of the team?”

 

It was the man who spoke, “Gilli, Martha, and….” he smiled briefly, “Goldielocks are out drinking. Julia is in the basement working on her latest toy,” he held out his hand, “I’m Davis.”

 

“Lynes.” I shake it, “And whose in charge?”

 

“That would be Marisha. She’s sucking up to the Director a couple systems away from this station.”

 

“I see,” another lull in the conversation, ”You mentioned something about being chased out of the Citadel?”

 

They both looked at the plates they hadn’t put up yet,  “Alliance Intelligence doesn’t have a strong presence here, and the other… groups here are determined to keep it that way.”

 

Davis snorted, “That’s putting it politely. The turians and asari disrupting any attempts to get influence with the politicians, crime bosses, and other networks. We’re spies without informants.”

 

“What about Marisha? What steps has she taken to fix this?”

 

“As I said: sucking up to the Director a couple of systems away.” he gave a bitter smirk, “Welcome to the Citadel Sect.”

 

* * *

 

The next few weeks were spent getting more detailed information on the situation. It was bad.  Even the _hanar_ had a bigger network than we did. The _hanar_. After that a clear course of action was planned, starting with the asari.

 

Lerissa was… interesting to say the least. Her light blue pigment contrasting with the dark paint that adorned her face like vines. She seemed to be moving and thinking at a million miles an hour, only stopping to give an order. And the base of asari operations seemed to reflect that; everyone moving quickly, hurriedly talking, hurriedly everything. She was in the center of it. Directing the chaos, controlling the storm. It was hard not to admire for a few moments.

 

When I approached she smiled wide and the attention she devoted towards her people shifted to me.  The whole room seemed to slow. But only slightly. “I was expecting Marisha.”

 

“The Sect Manager was indisposed, and sent me to negotiate in her place.”

 

Not entirely true, but the words, ‘Do whatever you want’ aren’t exactly official, and they weren’t a no.

 

The asari seemed amused, _perhaps at my boldness. I am, after all walking right into the asari base to propose an idea that will she can reject with absolutely no consequences for my group._ She gestured for me to follow.

 

Her office is smaller than I expected, bare too. She sits and I pull up a map of the Citadel, it is beautiful work of organization. Colored sections that indicate neutral grounds, areas of influence, and the criminal territories. My plan. Just enough influence to give a chance to the Alliance, and small enough that there’s no possible way to see our size as a threat. Of course I don’t say this out loud, no, I say that it will be beneficial for them. And it will. They can grow without conflicts from the other networks. Without an inevitable conflict with the fast growing turian network. It’s as beneficial to her as it is to me.

 

Lerissa is easier to read then most; or perhaps she’s kind enough to let me see, but she _seems_ willing. Even impressed. I leave chiding myself for the confidence I feel. _It’s always bad to assume Lynes._

  

I had nothing planned after the meeting and didn’t quite desire to go back to the hidden Intelligence Base. So I walked the Presidium, exploring for the first time.  The Mass Effect Relay made me uncomfortable, but that was because of my foreknowledge than any general feeling I got from it. Eventually I found my way to the bar that Shepard could go to in the first game, it was filled with politicians and soldiers, which added to the distinct surrealism that I realized I was feeling.

 

_I’m at the Citadel,_ I look to the table across from me, _that’s where Shepard can get an additional side quest,_ The door leading to the alley in the back, _a keeper will be through there in under six years,_ My head was spinning. Going to Palavan and hearing what batarian music sounded like was one thing. But being here? Where Shepard will be? I get up quickly, abruptly, head spinning. And walk till I find somewhere private. A small alcove, hidden, I lean against the railing that separates me from the flying cars-I must be higher up in the Presidium for them to be so close-I breathe.

 

_One, two, three, four, five, si-_

 

“It seems I am not the only one who felt the need to slip away.”

 

I jump, and turn towards the voice, an asari. She looked familiar, though I can’t recall where from. When I do not reply she simply comes forward next to me, leaning against the railing, “I am Sha’ira.”

 

_The Consort! That explains it.  
_

 

“Lynes.”

 

She looked at me, concern and curiosity all at once, “You are very strange.”

 

I can’t help but give a brief smile, “If you only knew the half of it.”

 

I’m calm. I straighten, for a moment I think on saying goodbye, it was unlikely that we’d cross again, but I look at her and see the same expression as before. And I know she will arrange another meeting. So instead I nod and turn away.

 

* * *

 

A few weeks later I hear news that my plan is approved by the turians. A month and it's completely enforced.

 

The rest of the year is spent getting myself in the position to begin consolidating power for the Alliance.

 

**Year 2**

 

I pull the trigger. The turian goes down. _One._ The asari next to him panics and pulls out her gun. _Two._ It barely occurs to me that I managed to get this far without killing anyone until now. As expected the hanar comes out, _three_ . Strangely colored blood spattered onto the turian behind them. _Four_.

 

I wait a beat. Two. Three.

 

**‘Lynes?’** Lerissa’s voice rang out in my ear, breaking the silence.

 

“Area cleared. Tell Cossus and Kirrahe that their people are free to come in.”

 

My rifle folds into itself and is placed in its holster on my back.  I quickly get down to the area I just cleared. They’re already almost set up by then.

 

“No, that won’t work,” Cossus, barefaced and shorter than what you’d expect for a turian was addressing Lerissa and Kirrahe, “If your men go here,” he gestured to a walkway, “They could sneak in and thin out the cannon fodder that Mystrum has surrounded himself with.”

 

I approach and cross my arms, “The ‘cannon fodder’ you so readily dismiss are politicians, I would recommend finding another way.”

 

Lerissa nodded, “I’m with Lynes. We need to make sure they stay safe.”

 

Cossus subvocals flared with the annoyance his face did not, “What are our options then? It’s not like there are many entrances.”

 

“There’s an entrance right behind him that my men can get through,” Kirrahe gestured to a ventilation shaft, “Your men and Lerissa’s can go through the front and attract the guarding soldiers fire while we distract Mystrum. Lynes and her people can slip through the chaos and direct the civilians out through these side doors.”

 

“Those doors are locked.”

 

“Not anymore!” Amethyst's pride was obvious as she yelled across the room.

 

Lerissa clapped her hands, the storm coming into her eyes, “Well then, let's go save some politicians shall we?”

 

* * *

 

Gili was shifting, eager, and impatient. _God. Why didn’t I go with Martha? She knows how to be still._ A minute passed, then gunfire.

 

We both surged forward, the door opening as we approached. On the left, the salarians dealing with the boss, and the men closest to them; the right held the turians and asari, who had effectively drawn the regular mercenaries away from the hostages. Across from me, Martha and Goldielocks. I focus on the politicians wordlessly guiding two back to the door we entered from. _Bad place to hold hostages. Too many doors._ Martha had gotten the last from her side. Gili had gotten ours.

 

A asari mercenary turned her head and saw us, raised her gun and-

 

_Five._

 

I back up, pistol up just in case. Gili leads the people away from the gunfire and death. I stay and provide support.

 

To my left, Kirrahe, _younger, more brash, but still just as inspiring to the salarians as he was in the first Mass Effect._ I shoot the human aiming for his head as he had his back turned. A brief tilt of his head towards the dropping body was his only reaction. _Six._  My right, one of Lerissa’s people being shot by a sniper. I find cover and take out my own. _Seven._ The body doesn’t fall on the fighting below, thankfully. The fighting ends soon after that.

 

The survivors catch their breath. The man who caused this whole thing lay dead. Kirrahe, Cossus, Lerissa, and I find ourselves standing next to each other. Watching as bodies are dealt with. _No need for anyone to know this happened._ It was Kirrahe who spoke, “So, drinks?”

 

I snort, _bolder than the player ever saw too,_ and then after a moment of thought shrug, “Why not?”

 

We end up in a quiet bar.

 

Kirrahe leads the conversation at first, and then Lerissa got involved, Cossus is next, and it's only when they got in a serious debate about _dogs_ of all things did I actively contribute.

 

“No, _no._ that's not a dog Lerissa. That’s not even close!” hazy eyes narrowed at the picture, “Dogs are the ones with scales right?”

 

Cossus shook his head, “ _No._ Dogs are the furry ones.”

 

“No, ‘cause that would mean _humans_ are dogs.” Lerissa reached over and pulled my hair slightly, “See?”

 

Kirrahe shook his head, and leaned in, “I _think_. That it's different hair.”

 

They all looked towards me expectantly, I shrug, “Nah. It jus’ grows in different places. Like… erm... stuff.”

 

“Ohhh. That makes sense.”

 

It was several hours before I find myself at the small apartment that I live in. And when I do I just crash on the couch.

 

**Year 3**

         

Our games are fun. Sha’ira knows that I’m different somehow and she knows that I’m aware of it. I suspect that if I were a client she’d ask me directly, after all they have the safety of complete confidentiality. But, I’m not. And so she waits for me to slip up and give her an opportunity to address it, or outright tell her myself.

It would be useful to tell her I imagine, she’d probably have a theory of why I’m here.  Or she would know someone who does. And it is a concerning question. Everyone asks themselves it of course. But ‘why am I here’ is less a matter of philosophy and more a matter of curiosity. And if the question were more immediate I might _have_ told her.  But I’m busy and have no reason to actively search for answers. So, I’ll enjoy our game until she gets tired of playing.

 

“Adeline, may I ask you a personal question?”

 

_Foreboding. And sad. I enjoyed working her into a very dignified annoyance._ “Of course, Sha’ira.”

 

Sha’ira was quiet for a moment. Not searching for the words, but how to phrase them. I understand of course, this is a delicate thing she’s going to ask. _How would I answer? I’m not from the past; not from this universes’ past at least. There’s no record of my old life anywhere. Or even of the game. So what would that make me?_

 

“You are human.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And… you are young.”

 

“Depends on who you compare me to. But sure.”

 

“You remind me of a asari I once knew. She had a certain… aura of knowing around her.  Almost if she could tell you everything about yourself. But, not everyone could see it. In fact, she was considered weak among, her peers, insane even. Talking about how our galaxy was going to die if we didn’t prepare. I saw it though. And when I asked her about it she rambled on about an invasion. A great danger. About how she wasn’t made for her body.” she paused for breath, long off the couch and pacing as she spoke. _Is she concerned for me? I suppose we’ve been meeting for years now. Strange how time goes by._ She turned towards me, expectantly, “Did you believe her?” I was resisting the urge to get up as well, my hands clenching silently as I spoke. _No need to be worried. I have this situation under control._

 

“Yes. I don’t know why though. I feel… I feel I was meant to help. I was young though, I ignored the feeling and she died.”

 

_This is… there are more? Was more? Why can she see me? Why does there have to be so many questions?_ “I see.” My voice is quiet. I'm losing control. An old and familiar feeling of fear, raised like bile in my throat. _How strange it is that I haven’t felt it at all throughout this whole lifetime. As if death stole it from me until now._ “What do you want me to say?” _I’ve never said it out loud before.  Who would?_

 

“The truth. If you are able,” her blue eyes concerned and caring, curious and kind. _She was genuine._

 

“I’m not sure.” The words were hesitant. Slowly and clumsily tumbling out as I explained my situation to the best of my ability. I didn’t go into detail. My past life is and will forever be my own. But everything after, the… drifting, the birth, the realization. It all came out and I couldn’t have stopped it if I wanted to. It seemed to be hours before I was done. And afterward there was a silence I could not stand.

 

Finally, she took my hands and promised that she would ask around. She would look for the cause, the reason, she promised that she would someday tell me why I was moved to this world. I nodded numbly to her promise, still not fully in control, and left. It was only when I walked out the door did I realize that I left out everything that would happen.

 

**Year 4**        

    

“Come on Adi! It’ll be fun, right Octavia?” Solana’s insistent voice held barely kept excitement as she moved her omnitool to face Octavia, who simply shrugged with an amused glint in her eye.

 

“The thought is appreciated Sol, but I’m working tonight. Birthday or not I can’t just put everything aside when I’m _so_ close to getting the Alliance in a powerful position.”

 

“Or I could make you bacon.”

 

I sigh, “Sol I can’t just-”

 

Davis and Amethyst practically run in, they’re followed by Martha, Gili, Julia, and Goldielocks. I see the concern in their eyes and I give Solana an apologetic look before ending the call, “What’s wrong?”

 

“Marisha’s coming back to the Citadel!” Ah. _That’s not good._ My lips tighten, “For how long?”

 

Davis and Amethyst look at each other and then move to speak-

 

“Until I’m reassigned.” A crisp voice responded from the entrance. Marisha looked me up and down, I met her eyes, “Well, it’ll be good to have a more direct leadership then.” It was a call out. And a challenge. If she thinks I’m giving up my work here then she has another thing coming, I hold out my hand, “Adeline Lynes, pleasure to meet you.”

 

She walked forward and took my hand, “Likewise.”

The other agents-Julia, David, Amethyst, Gili, Martha, and Goldielocks-were worried, I toss them a smile. Put my hands behind my back wanting to rush her visit, “If you would follow me, I can brief you on the changes that has occured since you last checked in.” I move towards my- _her-_ office, not waiting to see if she answered.

 

When we get there, I allow her to sit in the seat behind the desk. I brief her, but only on what she needed to know.  I told her of the working relationship I have with the most of the alien networks, but not that I have personal spies in almost every one. She has a list of blackmailed politicians, but she doesn’t know that I only need to be alone with Councilor Spartus to sway him in whatever way I see fit. She definitely needed to know that the Shadow Broker does regular business with us, but not that the business is usually _buying_ information. By the end of the meeting she knows everything that she’s supposed to know, and nothing that would actually help her ruin what I’ve built.

 

When my briefing is over she nods, looks up from the desk, she was reorganizing it as I spoke. _Ruined everything. I mean who puts batarian informants with wine preferences! Lord._ “Excellent. It’s good to see my sect hasn’t degraded since I’ve been gone.” _You’re right. It got better._ I turn to leave, “Oh! Before you leave I have an assignment for you.”

 

She handed me a datapad I only need to read a few lines in, “Ah. Goldielocks has more experience undercover. He would be best for this one,” I hand it back. She doesn't accept it.

 

“I’ve read your dossier, I think you have great potential, but it can hardly be realized if you’re behind a desk all day,” her voice was sweet, encouraging, “You’ll take the mission. Tomorrow you’ll get equipment from…” her eyes turned thoughtful, “Julia! And the day after you’ll get some tips from Dylan. From there you will be expected to integrate yourself into the Purple Spawn, and eventually assassinate the leader. Understood?”

 

My fists are clenched behind my back, I smile, “Yes, ma’am.”

 

* * *

 

Getting in was actually easy enough. They don’t really have standards as long as you can shoot. But, dealing with everything afterward…. Grunt work, condescending comments, the fact that _no one fucking trusted me._ Honestly this part of my day was the only good part now days. Really at this point I don’t expect Sosk to say ‘yes’, but there’s nothing compared to the lovely ways that man, er.. batarian, could say ‘no’. I mean one day he just told me to fuck off and then the next he told me the longest story that meant the _exact_ same thing! And honestly I look forward to it.

 

I give a wide smile as I see him coming down the hall like he does every afternoon, and _every_ afternoon I fall in step with him. We don’t talk at first-not until he’s eaten something-I learned that the second day. And after he’s eaten I give him a few minutes to settle in a chair he’s claimed in the main lounge we grunts are afforded. And then, and only then, do I settle across from him and ask him one simple question, “Can you teach me to punch people like you do?”

 

His eyes narrow, he leans back in his chair, and then with such a beautifully painful pause he grunts out one word, “Fine.”

 

I’m not afraid to admit that I let out a quiet surprised squeak. He continues talking, “I’ll only teach you Mondays and Fridays, late afternoon. If you miss a day you better have a damn good reason.”

 

His omnitool went off and he left only a minute after to do…. Whatever he does. _What does he do?_

 

* * *

 

We stood across from each other, his hands crossed, mine staying limply at my side. Eventually he got in a defense stance and said, “Hit me.”

 

_Wait. What? “_ You heard me kra’tash. Hit. Me.” _I’ve seen movies. This is the part where he beats me up. This is the part he tries to make me go away. Ha!  Jokes on him. I went through the emotional trauma of dying, while I was a toddler! I can do this._ I move forward and swing. Sosk slams me against a wall.

 

* * *

_(In the SpongeBob time lapse voice)_

 

Two hours later…  and I could _feel_ the bruises forming. I also couldn’t walk. Leaving the area he was training me in was… a treat.

 

I slept well that night.

 

* * *

 

The next morning I was, indeed covered in bruises, _and_ I was sore. Lovely.

 

When it was lunch time I sat at my usual spot, across from Sosk, his top eyebrows raised the moment I did. We ate in silence.

 

**Year 5**

 

It was so strange to be nervous. It was a rare thing for me nowadays. Not that I’ve never been nervous, once upon a time I was _always_ nervous.  But now… a whole lifetime later, I was here, nervous and… enjoying how it made me feel.  Perhaps I should be worried, I had become numb to everything that once had made me who I was.  That doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing though, I am better in so many ways. All my old worries and anxiety erased with age, the annoying… cares that never mattered, it was all gone. And I wasn’t.

 

I was more this way, I had to be.

 

_But is that really a good thing?_

 

I shake away the thought before it took hold. _This is going to be it.  The end of my undercover mission. Intelligence taking down the leader, his second, and their main thugs._

 

Scrapper sits down next to me, their bat placed in the seat next to them. A wicked smiled played on their lips, “So… you’re the pet project the boss has taken up.” _Sosk. Second in command. And the source of my nervousness. I shouldn’t have gotten attached._ I look at my hands, “Yeah.”

_There are four other mercs here plus the Boss, Scrapper, and Sosk. Seven plus thirty-one_ “You don’t seem like much.”

 

I look back at Scrapper and shrug, “Neither does that bat of yours. I’m not questioning _it_.” A wide grin and a slap my back and then, seemingly satisfied with the conversation; they left without saying goodbye.

 

It’s a long way to Pragia, and my nervousness only grows in that time. Anxiety always ate at me like a starving wolf; vicious, cruel, unthinking, and quick. It’s not even the fact that I grew attached to him really, it's the such blatant affront to the one thing I didn’t lose from before. I suppose that’s what happens when you start fighting a war years before it starts. I only wish the first casualty wasn’t my unrelenting need to stay loyal to…. _God damnit I don’t even know anymore. My friends? Family? Used to be that simple. Now it’s the random idiots that are unlucky enough to fall under the umbrella. Oh and how big it has gotten, Alliance, criminals, people I haven’t even technically met yet! Fuck. Maybe it's a good thing I’m letting this go._

 

I was on the opposite end of Jack’s facility. I checked. Still… to be so close to where Jack grew up. But that’s off topic. The ambush would take place in a smuggler facility. The Boss thought this would be a trade off. Really it was an execution.

 

* * *

 

My omnitool pings, and the numbness sets in like an old friend as I read the warning.

 

* * *

 

I get out of the shuttle clenching my fists. Scrapper bumps into me playfully and then heads up behind Sosk. I end up at the back of the group, watching the mercs and leaders alike. We found ourselves in a big chamber, there was some cover, not enough to truly be effective.  I vaguely recognize Goldielocks as he steps forward to greet the Boss.

 

_Two years._

I see a movement in the back. No one else does. _Martha playing at sniper no doubt._

 

_Two years, wasted._

 

The shadow settled and then moved again; harsher, as if it were fighting off an attacker. I tense, a merc notices and gives a concerned brow in my direction.

 

_Two years, wasted. But only if you tell Goldielocks that something was going wrong._

 

Another strangled movement. Another shadow gone.

 

_Two years. What are you doing?_ The numbness is taking over. Spreading like an infection. Making my limbs heavy. _You could say something. It wouldn’t be suspicious. Your cover could be maintained._ A brief pause of consideration, the words entered up through my throat. And then I crushed them. _No! No. Tell one, kill them all. You’ve got to let this play out._

 

I’d imagine all the snipers were gone now. Of course, there would be more than one unit here, Goldielocks still has a fighting chance.

 

More talking.

 

And then Goldielocks pulls out his gun, and shoots the Boss. I automatically duck into cover as a shot nears my head from sniper that Marisha no doubt put in. I hear two sides calling me. The criminals, and Scrapper, specifically trying to corral me to the door. And Goldielocks, his expectant eyes urging me towards him.   _Time to make a choice.  Back to the woman who’ll most certainly try to kill me again? Or…_ I look towards Sosk and Scrapper, both by the door eyes darting between me and Goldielocks. I could see the exact moment they put two and two together.

 

_Fuck this. Fuck it all. Fuck. She’s… Fuck it. I just won’t be in the Alliance when I’m in the Normandy._ I run towards Sosk and Scrapper, shooting the door lock when they both follow me. I didn’t look back.

 

**Year 6**

 

Julia was my source. She also followed me after I… left the Alliance. But, not before finding out that Marisha would be getting whatever the fuck she wanted after taking down the Boss. Nevermind that the details were hazy. Pragia quickly became a classified file that nobody would ever look at or question. Marisha was safe from the unaware cogs of Bureaucracy as she did whatever she wanted to catch and keep power. Even if it meant casualties on her team, which she blamed on me, by the way.

 

Not that I minded. I was prospering under the new Boss, Sosk was surprisingly quick to forgive, or quick to see an opportunity. I went from living in a cell to being in charge of any and all information that the gang needs to know or already knew. It was a surprising twist for me, but considering my options and prior job experience I had no reason to disagree with the job.

 

I will admit it put a halt on most of my professional relationships for several days. The transition from double agent to actual criminal made it difficult to pick up former contacts, but I quickly put everything on track as soon as I could.

 

* * *

 

“Come on Kirrahe, who could it hurt?” The salarain looked uncertain, I gave a comforting smile, “I just have a bad feeling. And I would feel a lot less worried if you just did it.”

 

The Council was starting him on a mission to investigate Saren, Anderson didn’t waste time in telling them of his trectory. I’m asking for a couple more men and a bomb specialist be added to his team.

 

He sighed, “If that’s all there is to it…”

 

“Spectre business is never good,” I reiterate for the third time, “I just… feel off about this.”

 

The Captain nodded. I breathed a sigh in relief, _one more thing I won’t have to worry about,_ “Thank you, Kirrahe.”

 

* * *

 

 

_I’m late._

 

My hair goes up in a formal bun. I quickly zip up the white, formal overshirt that goes to my neck in traditional Mass Effect style, my boots are slipped on and I run out the door. When I get to the stairs I am only two minutes late.

 

Anderson barely had a chance to greet me before Udinia started talking, “And who is this?” he turned towards me, glaring, “You are not needed. Go!” I bite my tongue. In the last year I’ve built a reputation for myself that allows a certain… trust to be extended towards me, it was a part of my efforts to gain back lost contacts. However, it meant that I couldn’t tell him what a fucking douchebag he was.

 

I turn towards Anderson instead, “I can’t get to Spartus now, but the next one I’ll have had some time with him.”

 

He nodded, “Thank you. We’ll need every advantage against Saren, including the Council.”

His eyes dart past me and to someone else.

 

To this day I swear I felt it before I knew it. I knew that Commander Shepard was approaching, even though I didn’t know what he looked like.

 

And sure enough when I turned, I saw a soldier with dark red hair put into a bun, followed by two other human soldiers.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha! I finished. Slowly. BUT I FINISHED! YES!


	5. Uh... I Give the Councilor a Massage?

_ And so it begins. _

 

The soldier approached, Kaiden and Ashley close behind. Udina crossed his arms as he leered at me, “Well? What are you still doing here?”

 

_ You can’t murder plot important characters so early in the story. You  _ can’t _ murder plot important characters so early in the story. You can’t murder plot important character so early in the story. _

 

I look at David, tilting my head questioningly, ‘ _ Am I leaving? _ ’

 

As an answer he shook his head slightly and turned towards Udina, “Lynes is taking time out of her busy day to offer resources we don’t have. She’ll stay until we’re completely sure we don’t need her. Now, let’s get to the meeting,” and with that Udina, David, the Commander and his squad go off to the meeting.

 

It lasted  _ way _ longer than the cutscene. I mean I know the Council can talk… but really how long can they go in order to say ‘no, you can’t be a Spectre. Because blah blah blah blah reason and random political thing here’ It was a good forty or so minutes  _ more _ than what I was expecting.

 

But when they did come out the anger from well, the whole group, was obvious. I stay near the bench and let the first bit of dialogue pass by, and only get up and actually join the conversation when I hear the Commander say, “So where do we start?”

 

“You could find the officer who investigated Saren, a turian named Vakarian.” The Commander looks at me, “Who are you?”

 

For a moment I’m confused.  And then I realize that the Commander doesn’t have my all-knowing advantage, I give an apologetic smile and hold out my hand, “I-excuse me. I’ve gotten ahead of myself. Lynes.”

 

David interjected, “She’s a friend of mine, and a reliable information broker. I thought she might be useful.”

 

The Commander takes my hand and gives it a firm shake, “Shepard. Do you know where Officer Vakarian is?”

 

_ Obviously. I’m an all knowing god right now _ , “There’s a clinic in the wards, owned by a Dr. Michelle, she recently admitted a quarian patient who had information for the Shadow Broker about Saren. I’d say it’s a place to start, at the very least.”

 

“Yes, very useful information,” Udina’s voice grated against my ears, “Now leave.”

 

_ You are  _ **_not_ ** _ allowed to kill plot important characters so early in the story. _ I smile pleasantly at the Ambassador, “Of course,” my eyes stray towards David, “Unless there was anything else you needed?”

 

The Captain frowned, before shaking his head, “I think we’re good for now.”

 

“Well, then I suppose I’ll be going then. It was nice to meet you Commander,” I turn towards Udina, “And you as well, Ambassador. Maybe we can meet on a further date for business.”

 

“Maybe.”

 

I turn to leave.  _ Why can’t I just insert myself into the squad? All of the aliens did. I know half of those people on a personal level, and I can’t even suggest tagging along temporarily? I’m embarrassing myself. All I have to do is turn around and suggest that I help since I know the wards, or I could lie and say I had business a Dr. Michelle’s. But no. I’m too fucking introverted. This is- _

 

“Wait.”  _ The Commander’s voice? _  I turn, I didn’t actually go that far, he didn’t even have raise his voice, “You any good with that rifle?”

 

My right hand twitches towards it on my hip automatically, “Yes, I’d say so. Why?” 

 

“We might need you for more information, would you mind joining me until we prove his guilt?”  _ Oh thank fucking god for Shepard. I didn’t have to do anything. _

 

“I don’t see why not.”

 

* * *

 

And that, my friends, is the story of how the Commander and I met.

 

If I’m going to be honest, I didn’t expect to be joining Shepard until the second Mass Effect. I mean letting aliens onto an Alliance ship is one thing, but a criminal? And an officially declared traitor at that, the only way to get on, it seemed to me, was to join when being a criminal would be a commonplace thing.

 

But here I am. Waiting awkwardly in an elevator with Shepard, Alenko, and Williams as we go down to the wards.

 

When the ride ended went in the direction of the clinic, while Ashley went towards the docks. As we passed I heard the turian and the human arguing about refunds. And I could see the curiosity in Shepard’s eye as we turned in our tracks to look out that giant window.

 

Kaiden moved against the railing his voice in awe, “Big place.

 

Shepard soon followed suit, “This isn’t a station, it’s a city.”  _ I’ve always enjoyed this particular dialogue.  _ I make myself comfortable to watch it happen.

 

“There must be millions here,” Kaiden continued, “It can’t be possible to track everyone who comes and goes. This… is a whole ‘nother scale compared to Jump Zero. Look at the ward arms, think of the power it takes to keep it all from falling apart.”

 

“The council represents more races than I thought, no wonder they’re careful with newcomers.”

 

Kaiden backed up slightly, “They probably just want to keep everything running, it must be hard keeping all those cultures working together.”

 

I interject, “They do. But there is  _ some  _ bias against humans in the council, though it’s mostly because the Council spends time with politicians that influences them that way.”

 

“I don’t understand. We have oceans, beautiful women, the emotion called love… according to the old vids we have everything they want.”

 

I keep my expression neutral, but I really want to laugh. A quick look towards the Commander says that he has absolutely  _ no _ idea about how that could be taken,  _ I wonder if Bioware made the Commander intentionally oblivious? That would explain so much. I suppose as changes to the game go it’s as good as any place to start.  _ I keep my voice in a pleasant monotone, “Sadly not all aliens see the obvious benefits of human women.” I give him a sharp look as I say it though, a slight warning in my eyes to watch his words. The Commander for a second seems to process what he said and then acknowledge my prodding.

“Ready to move out Alenko?”

 

Kaiden backed away from the view, “Yes sir.”

 

* * *

 

When we go into the clinic Dr. Michel is panicking, of course, and we see Garrus sneaking underneath the window thing. 

 

“I didn’t tell anyone, I swear!”

 

“That was smart doc. Now if Garrus comes around you’ll stay smart.”  _ Okay thug number 1. You’ll be… what number was I in my count? Ah right. 52.  _ “Keep your mouth shut or we’ll-” He noticed the Commander and then there was a gun to Michel’s head, “Who are you?!”

 

The Commander put his gun forward, “Let her go.” Garrus finished his move around the corner and then thug number one was dead. Two and three ducked for cover behind crates.

 

My pistol was out, and I quickly found myself ducking behind a bed, shooting not at the men but the small gas canister right in the middle of the two. I bursts after two shots, one falls to the ground coughing, where a shot from Alenko finishes him off.  _ Does that count? _ The other manages to stay up, but his blood soaks the wall as the moment he ducks out of cover to shoot the Commander gets him in the head. 

 

It only takes a few minutes for the situation to completely diffuse after the last thug’s death.

 

The voice of Garrus Vakarian sounded pleased as he spoke, “Perfect timing Shepard. Gave me a clear shot of that bastard.”

 

Shepard didn’t share the sentiment, “What were you thinking? You could’ve hit the hostage!”

 

“There wasn’t time to think. I just reacted-” the turian now looked towards the doctor, “Are you hurt?”

 

“No, I’m okay thanks to you.” She looks at the Commander, Alenko, and I, “All of you.”

 

The Commander stepped forward, “I know those men threatened you. But, if they tell us who they work for we can protect you.”  _ Looks like we’ve got ourselves a paragon boys. Thank god. I wouldn’t be able to be polite if Shepard was a douche. _

 

“They work for Fist, he sent them to keep me from telling Garrus about the quarian.” 

 

“What quarian?”  _ Tali, obviously. I know you can’t tell the future, but that might be the love of your life someday. Keep up. _

 

Michel started pacing,  _ I hate pacing,  _ “A few days ago, a quarian came in needing help. She’d been shot, scared, and probably on the run. She asked me about the Shadow Broker. She wanted to trade information for a safe place to hide.”

 

“Where is she now?”

 

The Doctor stopped pacing, “I put her in contact with Fist. He’s an agent of the Shadow Broker.”

 

Garrus shook his head, “Not anymore. He works for Saren, and the Shadow Broker isn’t too happy about it.”

 

“Saren must’ve offer a lot to betray the Shadow Broker,” I frown slightly, “I wonder what it took?”

 

Vakarian’s subvocals were a strange mix of embarrassment, anger, and… anticipation, “That quarian must have something Saren wants. Something worth crossing the Shadow Broker to get.”

 

Shepard nodded, “She must have something to prove he’s a traitor? Did she say anything about Saren? Or the geth?”

 

“She did! She said it was something to do with the geth.”

 

I wouldn’t need my special, subvocal hearing earpiece to see his anticipation, “She must have evidence that links Saren to the geth. There’s no way the Council can ignore this!” he paused, “This is your show Shepard, but I want to take down Saren as much as you do. I’m coming with you!”

 

“Why do you want to take him down? He’s a turian.”

 

“I couldn’t find the evidence I needed in my investigation. But I knew what was really going on. Saren is a traitor to the Council, and a disgrace to my people!”

 

The Commander seemed pleased with the answer, “Welcome aboard Garrus.” The Commander looked at Alenko and I deliberately, I shift my feet before saying, “I’ll stay here and help the Doctor deal with….” I nod towards the bodies, “her company.”

 

“I’ll see you after the trial?”

 

I nod, “If that is your wish.”

 

* * *

 

After calling in help and recommending a good mix of cleaners to clean up the walls. I go instantly to Councilor Spartus’ office.

 

His secretary, a nice young asari women nods and opens his door as I approach.

 

He looks up from his computer, first out of annoyance and then surprise, “Miss Lynes, what an unexpected pleasure. What can I do for you?”

 

I sat down in a chair in front of his desk, and with a convincely concerned expression and voice I say, “I was just wondering how you are, with the whole Spectre drama I can’t imagine you’ve had much time to breathe.”

 

The turian’s body language instantly relaxes as he realises this isn’t business, “I don’t know, Adeline. I don’t want to believe that Saren is capable, and I’ve got bureaucrats coming at me from all sides about how Shepard might be a Spectre candidate even after his accusations…” 

 

“You’re still considering the Commander?”

 

If he was human he might’ve run his fingers through his hair, “Humanity… is pushing for it, they think their ready. And… up until this point the Council saw no reason otherwise. So we are debating it yes.” he looked at me hopefully, “I don’t suppose you’d have any good news for me.”

 

_ Good? No.  _ “Well… I know that the Commander has taken it upon himself to investigate, and found a promising lead at that. But I cannot tell you beyond that.”

 

He groans and turns in his chair to look at the window that made up his back wall, I get up and stand closer to the desk, and begin to rub a sensitive part of his neck, he groans again, I start to speak, “This whole business is unfortunate. A capable Commander’s career might be ruined, or a Spectre might be a traitor. It’s just such a shame that you’ve been put in the middle of this situation.”

 

He hummed both in agreement and pleasure, “And what are the other Councilors doing?”

 

He huffed, “Nothing. Arguing, expecting me to do all the thinking.”

 

“As always,” I say with a  sigh, “You’re the only reason the Citadel is still as effective as it is. And I’m so glad that that its someone as impartial as you to decide these things.”

 

“Impartial?”

 

I press a little deeper in the spot, continuing to remove the stress in his body, “Yes. Or at least from what I’ve seen. You’d never automatically dismiss an alien because a turian said so.”  _ Or you won’t anymore. Ugh. Turian skin feels so weird.  _

 

He nodded, “You’re right. I would never,” a small pause, “Maybe… maybe Saren isn’t as innocent as I’d like to think.”

 

“Spartus!” I say it quietly, like he was a peasant who had just declared revolution to his neighbor, “Surely you don’t think so?”

 

“Well,” he began thoughtfully, “he never really offered proof otherwise. I suppose it would be wrong of me to say definitely that he’s free of guilt.”

 

“If that’s what you think, Spartus, then I have no reason to disagree.” 

 

I continue rubbing his neck for about two minutes before I stop, backup, and allow him to turn back towards me, he cleared his throat and straightened now completely business, “Was that all you needed?”

 

“Yes, thank you for allowing me the time to check up on you Councilor,” I walk out the door and my omnitool pings. 

 

**_‘About to call another Council meeting be there soon’_ **

 

I reply, ‘ **_Already on my way David’_ **

 

* * *

 

It was much shorter this time. Still longer than the cutscene though.

 

When they get out I stand and say, “Well?”

 

“I’m the first human Spectre.”

 

I nod, “Congratulations Commander. This must be a tremendous honor.”

 

Udina  _ ugh _ interrupted, “Nevermind that, you’ll need a ship and crew,” he paused thoughtfully, “Come on Anderson, I have some ideas. Meet us at the docks when you’re ready.”

 

Anderson and Udina went off, and with a subtle nod towards Garrus and Tali they soon followed.

 

He waited for them to get a distance away before speaking, “So I know you have work here on the Citadel, but you were helpful today. Not just in finding Michel but with the combat. I want you on my team for the rest of the mission, if you think you could take the time.”

 

My first answer would be yes. I would very much like to help save the galaxy.  _ But….  _ “I’m a criminal.”

 

His reaction is almost comical, “What?”

 

“I buy and sell information, for a well known and dangerous gang.”

 

“Why are you telling me this?”

 

I sigh, “Because I am wanted within the Alliance among others, it wouldn’t be fair for me to accept your offer if you didn’t know.”

 

“That’s… very honest.”

 

I can’t do anything but shrug. He thinks for a moment, “I’ll want to tell at least, the other squad members.”

 

_ Really? Thank god for ParagonShep. I’d probably be dead, if he was a renegade.  _ “That’s fair.”

 

“Okay then,” he held out his hand, “Welcome to the squad Lynes. I suggest being packed up and at the docks within the hour.”

 

I nod, “Of course Commander.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So just a heads up, I will be making the Normandy slightly bigger. Slightly. Only enough to add an XOs office on the same level as the mess hall.


	6. Protag-Companion Background Sesh

**Un·asin·ous**

**To be equally stupid**

  
  


You know what I hate? The planet that Liara’s recruitment quest was on. I don’t mind the asari or the actual quest.  The planet though… fuck it. Fuck the rocks, fuck the lava, and the air. Fuck it. Though I’m being premature in my anger, still have a couple of hours before we even get in the system. 

 

A couple of hours of deliberately ignoring the new door that certainly wasn’t in first game  _ Normandy.  _ To that end I found a comfortable spot on top of a crate in the cargo bay, data pad in hand, making sure that Sosk and Scrapper don’t burn down the Citadel without my supervision.  I do so slowly as when I chose my temporary replacement, I did so knowing that she could manage without any advice from me. A shift of control that  _ wasn’t  _ in my favor. 

 

I heard a slow and unsure footfall towards me. I quickly press the ‘OK’ button (It doesn’t literally say OK) fully relinquishing control of my work for the time being. _ Just like ripping off a band-aid. _ The footfalls stop in front of me, and I look up,  _ it’s just Tali,  _ slide off the crate, and slip a polite smile on my face. The quarian wrung her hands together, “Hi.”

 

“Hello,” the polite smile slips into unsurety, “Tali was it?” 

 

“Yes. Tali’Zorah nar Rayya. I just- I wanted to thank you, the Commander mentioned that you were the one who gave the information that helped to find me when he did.” 

 

_ That’s…  not what I was expecting.  _ I keep the surprise hidden easily, “Of course,”  _ Come on you can do this. Don’t be awkward. You are Omnipotent from now on. You can literally change the fate of the universe.  _ I fight to keep the wave of habitual nervous ticks that come out whenever I’m being thanked. “I’m glad to help.”  _ God please, please, make sure that nothing is showing. Please. I hate being thanked. Why is she even doing this? I didn’t even intentionally save her. Well, I did, but she doesn’t know that!  _

 

Tali seemed pleased with the interaction as she left, I saw her head bob in a subtle nod to herself as she left.  _ At least I’m not the only one. _

 

I internally loosen my shoulders. The fact that I didn’t have to do it physically bodes well for the hiding of my awkwardness. I quickly get back up on my crate, which I suspect would quickly become my safe spot despite its busy surroundings.

* * *

When we got to the system Wrex and Alenko were called on deck to be briefed about the mission.  _ Fuck. YES. I really,  _ **_really_ ** _ , hate that planet. I also have nothing to do.  _ I look around. Garrus was already on the Mako, Ashley was working on stuff, and Wrex was… gone.  _ There’s one thing you could do…  _ I clench my fist  _ No… I will  _ **_not_ ** _ snoop in the room. I will  _ **_not_ ** . There are things that I could do.  _ Fuck. There’s nothing for me to do.  _ Hmm… I go to my locker, not even a stone's throw away, and take out my rifle. 

 

It takes exactly two and a half minutes for me to be reaquainted with my former weapon of choice. One minute to decide whether to take off my gloves,  _ Small scars on the knuckles and one big one going up to my forearm. Best leave it on. Fewer questions.  _ Another minute to actually feel out the weapon, and then thirty seconds before I feel as confident with it as I did before I stopped using it.

 

In an hour I’ve taken it apart and put it back together at least a dozen times. Once I hit that mark I sighed and gave up that particular time waster. My gun went back to its spot in my weapon’s locker. I sat on my crate. Twenty minutes before I looked down at my datapad and watched the information flow. Twenty more and the elevator door opened.

 

Shepard, Alenko, and Wrex filed out of the elevator and head towards their lockers. A young asari women follows after them nervously, Shepard points to one of the lockers, “This’ll be yours Dr. T’Soni. We’ll be going to the Citadel soon to get you weapons and armor fit for you,” 

 

Five minutes for the ground team to be completely unequiped. Afterward Wrex and Alenko went to their respective areas. Wrex gave me a considering look before dismissing me. Shepard talked with Williams quietly.

 

It was another fifteen minutes before the Commander’s voice pierced through my thoughts, “Ashley, Vakarian, Wrex, Lynes meet in the briefing room in three minutes.” 

 

Three minutes and I’m in the briefing room. _The actual briefing room. Where we’ll meet. Because the Commander let me come. Fuck. Who lets a criminal_ _come to a briefing room?_ I don’t sit down. There aren’t enough chairs for everyone. Or, there are but they have one more than expected. _Who should I be behind? Who would be the most oblivious to it? Neither one of the humans. And Garrus is a former cop. Wrex would be aware of it, but has already decided I’m not a threat to him. That leaves Liara or Tali. I haven’t met Liara yet though, so it would stand to reason that I’d be more comfortable standing behind Tali._ I move to lean against the wall behind Tali’s chair. _Way to go, Lynes. In the next life I should be a version of Sherlock Holmes._

 

I hear Joker’s voice come over the intercom, “Too close Commander, ten more seconds and we would’ve been swimming in molten sulfur. The  _ Normandy _ isn’t equipped to land in exploding volcanoes. They tend to fry our sensors and melt our hull. Just for future reference.” 

 

“We almost died out there and your pilot is making jokes?” Liara’s incredulous voice filled the air.

 

The Commander shrugged, “It’s a coping mechanism. You get used to it.”

 

“I see. It must be a human thing. I don’t have a lot of experience dealing with your species Commander, but I am grateful to you; you saved my life back there and not just from the volcano, those geth would have killed me or dragged me off to Saren.”

 

Kaiden spoke up at this point, “What did Saren want with you? Do you know something about the Conduit?”

 

She shifted in her seat, “Only that it was something connected to the Prothean Extinction. That is my real area of expertise, I have spent the past fifty years figuring out what happened to them.”

 

I tilt my head curiously, “How old are you Dr. T’Soni?”

 

She looked towards me and spoke with a sigh, “I hate to admit it. But I am only 106.”

 

Ash interjected, “Damn. I hope I look that good at a 106.”

 

I give her a near sympathetic look, “That must be difficult.”

 

“Yes. My age is often the reason my work is overlooked.”

 

The Commander leaned against the railing and refocused the conversation, “Did your research turn up anything interesting?”

 

“What’s interesting is how little I did turn up; there is little archaeological evidence of the Protheans. And even less that might explain why they might have disappeared. It’s as if someone did not want the mystery solved. It is as if long after the Protheans were gone; someone came along, and cleansed the galaxy of clues. But here’s the incredible part, according to my research the Protheans were not the first Galactic Civilization to vanish. This cycle began long before them.”

 

“What cycle? What’re you talking about?” The Commander crossed his arms.

 

“The galaxy is built on a cycle of extinction; each time a great civilization rises up and then it is suddenly and violently cast down. Only ruins survive. The Protheans rose up from a single world until the empire spanned the entire galaxy, yet even they climbed atop on the ruins that came before. Their greatest achievements, the mass relays, the Citadel, were based of technology of those who came before, and then like all the other forgotten civilizations throughout galactic history the Protheans disappeared. I have dedicated my life to figuring out why.”

 

“They were wiped out by a race of sentient machines. The Reapers.”  _ Damn Commander. Just laying it out, not like you’re completely revealing what she just claimed was her life's work. Oh. Wait. _

 

“Th-the Reapers?”  _ See now you’ve gone off and made her stutter.  _ “But I have never heard of.. How do you know this? What evidence do you have?”

 

“There was a damaged Prothean beacon on Eden Prime. It burned a vision into my brain, I’m still trying to sort out what it all means.”

 

“Visions…” she paused thoughtfully, “Yes that makes sense. The beacons were designed to transmit information directly into the user. Finding one that still works is extremely rare, no wonder the geth attacked Eden Prime. The chance to find a working beacon; even a badly damaged one is worth any risk. But the beacons were only programmed to interact with Prothean physiology, whatever information you received would’ve been confused, unclear. I am... amazed you were able to make sense of it at all. A lesser mind would have been utterly destroyed by the process.”  _ I don’t know that seems UDDERly ridiculous.  _ “You must be remarkable strong-willed Commander.”  _ I think I see literal hearts coming out of her eyes. _

 

“Okay,” Ashley interrupts, “This isn’t helping us find Saren or the Conduit.”

 

Liara nods, “Of course you’re right. I am sorry my scientific curiosity got the better of me. Unfortunately I do not have any information to help you find the Conduit. Or Saren”

 

“I don’t know why Saren wanted you out of the picture, but I think we’d be better off with you along.” 

 

Liara nods at the Commander’s suggestion, “Thank you Commander. Saren might come after me again I cannot think of anywhere safer than here on your ship. And my knowledge of the Protheans might be useful later on.”

 

Wrex leaned against his chair, “And her biotics will come in handy when the fighting starts.”

 

The Commander smiled, “Good to have you on the team Liara.” 

 

“Thank you Commander I am glad to be on the-” she grabbed her head, “I’m afraid I am feeling a bit lightheaded.”

 

“When was the last time you ate? Or slept?” Alenko leaned forward and looked her over with furrowed eyebrows, “Dr. Chakwas should take a look at you.”

 

“It is probably just mental exhaustion, coupled with the shock of the knowledge of the Prothean’s true fate. I need some time to process all this. Still it could not hurt to be examined by a medical professional. It will give me a chance to… think things over. Are you finished Commander?”  _ That’s what she said. Or might say? Why am I thinking this? _

 

“We can again after you’ve seen the doctor. The rest of you, dismissed.”

 

I file out with the rest of them, as I hear Joker asking if the Commander wants the Council patched through.

 

I go straight down to the cargo bay, not wanting to see the giant temptation that is the door. I return to my datapad watching the information. I hear heavy footsteps approach, “Lynes.” I look up at the Commander and slip off my crate, “Hello Commander. Is there something you need?”

 

His posture is relaxed, for a soldier at least, he shook his head, “No, I just realized that out of all of the squad members you are the one I know the least about.”

 

_ Ah. Well it’s time for a classic Protagonist-Companion background sesh.  _ “Well what do you wish to know?”

 

“How do you know the Captain?”

 

“He’s an old family friend, I can’t remember a birthday or other any other important event where he  _ wasn’t  _ there.” 

 

“So you two are close then?”

 

“Like family,” It is difficult to keep my expression blank when talking about David and I’s relationship, we’re too close for me to not want to automatically be… relaxed when talking about him but, I do manage it as best as I can.

 

The Commander nodded, “Does he know what you do?”

 

“He was the first person I told.”

 

“You told people when you became a criminal?”

 

“Wouldn’t you tell the people your closest to that your making a major career change? And, besides that most of my friends had a similar career, so by telling them I had given them information that no one else was aware of yet and received a professional favor from them.”

 

“What do you mean professional favor?”

 

“Well,” I start, “If you work with information, independent or otherwise, and you have friends in the same career, a very clear line  _ has _ to be drawn between personal and professional. You can’t do something as a friend and expect it to repaid during work. Not only is that bad business, but it will ruin the friendship.”

 

“Speaking from experience?”

 

“Thankfully I was taught that very early on. I’ve never lost a friend to work.”

 

The Commander nodded, “Thanks Lynes, I’ve learned a lot.”

 

“Not a problem Commander,” I say as look down at my datapad, mind already knowing what it wants to do next.

 

“Shepard.”

 

I look up, “Pardon?”

 

“We’re off duty. You can call me Shepard.”

 

“Very well Shepard.”


	7. Criminals an' Stuff

**Blan·dil·o·quence**

**Mild, flattering speech.**

 

I’ve decided that being a criminal was the best thing I’ve ever done. Really. It’s fun being a Pariah, no one ever expects me to help with things, or talk, or just be involved generally. I’m finding it comforting knowing that most people don’t like me because, if I fuck up saving the universe, I won’t feel nearly as guilty for, well, fucking up.

 

However, it seems that there are a few people who don’t agree with my sentiments. The Commander being one, he’s always trying (and mostly failing) to get the other squadmates talking to me. Joker is another, but I honestly don’t mind him. His humor is on par with mine and he learned my mannerisms quickly enough to tell when I’m in the mood for conversation or not. Which is good, because the Pilot’s area is the second best area in terms of the lease amount of  foot traffic. Then Tali seems to have taken a liking to me as well, but she’s a lot more socially taxing than Joker so I limit my conversations with her to an hour at most.

 

But beyond these instances I quickly settle into the role assigned to me. They tactfully ignore the blatant criminal presence, and I tactfully never mention anything I learned through the intensive background checks I requested for the more important crew members. Life settles into a strange calm despite the constant gunfire and politics thrown towards the Normandy and her crew; and I would be lying if I say I didn’t like it.

 

* * *

“Lynes and Vakarian will be meeting Helena Blake with me. Keep the Normandy within extraction distance in case we need to make a break for it.” I hear the disappointed hum of Garrus’ sub-vocals  from across the room.  _ It seems rude for me to let him go on thinking that he doesn’t have to control his sub-vocals. At this point I’m pretty adept at reading turians anyway. But this is a small ship, and as far as I know the Alliance has no idea I have this particular advantage. Hmm… this is a conundrum.  _

 

The Commander put his hands behind his back, “Anyone have questions?”

 

Ash leaned back in her chair and looked at me, “Are you sure want to take her on this one? She’d be more likely to help Blake than us.”

 

_ Gee your vote of confidence is comforting _ , “Not an accurate assumption Gunnery Chief, I’ve never actually done business with that Syndicate. Nor would I want to” 

 

“So you’re telling me you’ve  _ never  _ done business with her ‘organization’?”

 

I sigh, “ _ If _ my group has done any business with hers it was not while I was in a leadership position. And as for me  _ personally _ , I have a low opinion of Helena and in addition, lower opinions of her associates.”

 

She narrowed her eyes, “Right. Sorry if I insulted, just being cautious.”

 

I give her a polite and understanding smile making sure to keep my voice sweet, “Because suggesting someone is a  _ slaver  _ is always the most cautious and socially aware thing to do in any given situation.”

 

A choked sound fills the room through the intercom.  _ Suppose it shouldn’t be a surprise that Joker listens in to these things.  _

 

Ashley for her part, handled my unexpected and, to them at least, out of character sarcasm admirably. Choosing to retreat back into her seat and sulk.

 

The Commander spoke again, looking completely unaffected by the whole situation, “Any more questions?”

 

No one else spoke.

 

* * *

As we approach Helena seemed to not have noticed me, “Hello again, Commander Shepard. It seems I owe you a debt of gratitude. With my former partners dead, the syndicate is mine. I could not have done it without you.”

 

“I killed them because they deserved it. Now I’m placing you under arrest.”  _ Wait. What?  _

 

Helena backed up slightly, “Surely you don’t think that necessary! Under my leadership the organization will restrict itself to gambling and smuggling illegal technologies. Hardly worth your time. If you choose to press the matter my assistants are well equipped to deal with you.”

 

For one second I can feel the air of deliberation from the Commander, and then I see him subtly motion for me to talk.  _ What’s he playing at? _

 

I step forward. Take a moment to examine the mercs, and then focus not on Helena, but one of the humans of the group, “I wasn’t aware we had people in her group?”

 

Scrapper gave a wide smile, “I know! I’m so proud of Irstal, she’s really settling into her role as your replacement.” 

 

“I take it you’ve done what you do best?”

Scrapper’s smile turned happy to proud, their posture straightening, “Yep.”

 

I nod my head towards to the door, they walk off, and take over half of the mercs with them. Helena sputtered, “Wha-where are are you going?!”

 

“Away, apparently, and if you continue on your path I could take a lot more.”

 

She rounded on me, “And who the hell are you?”

 

I fix my sleeve and smile apologetically, “Ah forgive me. I forget we’ve never been introduced in person,” I hold out my hand, “Lynes.”

 

She looked at my hand and back up at my face, “I see. I…” she looked back at her force, “I understand. I suppose, well, I-” she takes a deep breath, “My organization's reputation is tainted.”

 

The Commander jumped in, “Yes it is, and it can’t be redeemed.”

 

“If I disband the gang. I walk away freely. I have not come so far to be arrested.”

 

“Agreed,” then the Commander took a menacing posture, “But if I see this gang again-”

 

Helena interrupted, giving me a cautious look, “I’m well aware of the consequences.”

 

She walked off, along with the remaining mercs. 

 

* * *

I watch as Joker goes through all the normal docking procedures with gusto as we enter the Citadel. With a slight raise of my brow I say, “Someone’s excited for shore leave.”

 

“You know it. I’ve got a new edition of  _ Fornax  _ waiting for me at the Alliance bunkhouse.”

 

“Ah.” I pause awkwardly, “I didn’t need to know that.”

 

Jeff looked towards me a mischievous gleam in his eye, “Don’t tell me that you’re  _ prudish.  _ Is that something that dangerous criminals are allowed to be?”

 

“If me not wanting to know what you’ll be…  _ doing  _ tonight is considered prudish, then yes.” I roll my eyes, “Dangerous criminals are allowed to be prudish.”

 

There’s a cough behind us we both turn to see the Commander, “Have we docked Joker?”

 

“Yes Commander, sorry I didn’t put it over the intercom… I was busy learning new things.”

 

“Yes,” the corner of Shepard’s mouth twisted up briefly, “I heard.”

 

I find my eyes studiously looking over the Commander’s shoulder instead of in his eyes. “Please announce it. You aren’t the only one who can’t wait for shore leave.”

 

Joker nodded, “On it right now.”

 

The moment it’s announced we’re docked the  _ Normandy  _ is a flurry of movement and anticipation. People packing up and getting ready for their three day shore leave. 

 

Of course those hopes are promptly dashed by the announcement that the  _ Normandy  _ would be going through an inspection. Everybody returns to their stations, some people literally dragging their feet as they do so. 

 

I go back to the cargo bay and stand near my crate.  _ I think I remember this encounter. What the Admiral’s name? Something russian I think.  _

 

Twenty minutes, and the elevator opens, and instead of whoever was supposed to do the inspection I see the ‘grand’ and commanding figure of Admiral Maxwell Lynes Sr. 

 

_ I don’t like this. At all.  _ My relaxed posture tenses at the sight of him, and my fists ball prematurely in anger. He steps into the room. Gives a harsh glare at the number of aliens in this area ship, notices me and then says something to the Commander. 

 

Shepard gestures towards the hallway leading towards the engineering room. 

 

I don’t dare relax even as he turns his back on me and heads out of sight.  

 

* * *

Five minutes later and he and the Commander are heading back to the elevator. When the doors open I hear his voice, tinged with barely disguised disgust, call my name, “Girl! Come with, we have to talk.”

 

I take a moment to consider my options  _ I go, most certainly get yelled at in private, and maybe get arrested. Or go, most certainly get yelled at in public, and definitely get arrested.  _ I walk to the elevator. 

 

The ride is silent and awkward. When we got off the Admiral started talking, “I’m not happy.”

 

“I’m sorry to hear that, sir.”

 

“Who designed that CIC? Putting the commander aft of everyone else is inefficient. What if he needs to discuss with the operators toward the bow?”

 

“Respectfully sir, how am I supposed to change the design of the ship?”

 

_ Shit not the paragon answer,  _ I smile and give a slight raise of my hand, “It’s actually a modified turian style. Turian ships are designed with their commanders looking over their subordinates, rather than in the middle of them. After some discussion with the turian head of project SFA-1, now known as  _ Normandy, _ it was decided that we would see how effectively they could command with that setup.” 

 

I see a few heads not involved in the conversation turn their heads towards me. The Admiral frowned, “It  _ should  _ have been studied in a lab, not a front-line warship.”

 

“Well we tried, but it was difficult to accurately gain results when there are so many situations a commander could be in. It was decided that the risk of gaining a more effective way of commanding was more important than the potential risk.”

 

“Hm. Still, I had to shake my head at that drive core of yours. 120 billion credits of element zero to make this thing able to move without giving itself away. You realize that we could make drive cores for 12,000 fighters with that money? What good is it hide for a few hours anyway? Useless!”

 

The Commander just looked at me, I sigh, “ _ Normandy _ was designed to loiter in an enemy system and drop infiltration units. This ship was designed be more effective then the STG.”

 

“That’s not the job of a proper warship.”

 

“It wasn’t  _ supposed  _ to be a warship. The  _ Normandy  _ was an Intelligence project and, consequently its design was meant for stealth. It’s hardly the ships or Commander’s fault that the brass decided that a ship meant for  _ infiltration  _ would be used for front-line fighting.”

 

The Admiral’s hands were balled into fists at his sides, he turned towards the Commander“Well then, let’s talk about your crew, Commander. Krogan? Turians?” he gave a harsh nod towards me, “ _ A known traitor?  _ What are you thinking Commander? You can’t allow alien nationals or criminals free access to Alliance equipment!”

 

The Commander straightened, “Between Saren and the geth, we have enough enemies out here. Treating other species, or denying aid from powerful allies with distrust and suspicions won’t win hearts and minds.”

 

Maxwell Lynes gave me a harsh look, “That assumes the hearts and minds are worth winning. That hasn’t been proven yet. Do you have anything else to say Commander? Any other justifications for the state of this vessel?”

 

The Commander’s hands went behind his back, “I think the  _ Normandy  _ is a good ship, sir. Even if you disagree, you have to see that her joint construction and multiracial crew make the Alliance look better.”

 

“Your job is to look good, Commander. The Alliance Navy’s is to win wars. I’m not convinced the  _ Normandy  _ isn’t a waste of taxpayer money. But I am convinced that you believe otherwise. And that you’ll use it to the best of its ability. I’ll be submitting a report to the Joint Military Council. It will not be as negative as I had planned.” He saluted at the Commander, “Good hunting Commander Shepard. Make us proud.” He walked back towards the exit and I followed.

 

“Sir?”

 

The Admiral looked back, “Yes Commander?”

 

“May I ask what you and my crewmember will be discussing?”

 

“It’s nothing important Commander. I’ll just be reminding your… crewmember her place in the Alliance.”

 

When he says that all I see is red, but I take several calming breaths relaxed my balled up fists, and by the time he looks back at me, my mask is settled on my face.

 

* * *

He didn’t even bother going somewhere truly private. Just going up the elevator and finding an alcove in C-Sec before starting his rant.

 

“I CANNOT believe you are being so bold as to working on an Alliance ship! After what you did? I should have you arrested immediately! I will NOT allow you to continue ‘helping’ the Commander! Not when you disgraced the Alliance the way you have!” He pointed his finger at my chest, “If you don’t leave that ship I promise I’ll-”

 

“What? You’ll arrest me? Make my life a living hell? You are over reaching  _ father,  _ I didn’t stay away from Max after Pragia because  _ you  _ threatened me. And if you think I’ll stay away from the  _ Normandy  _ because you’re threatening me now then you seriously are overestimating yourself. I do what I want and I will continue to until I no longer want to. And the only way you’ll stop me is by taking the gun you are so  _ fond  _ of waving and actually doing something with it. So if you’ll kindly  _ fuck off  _ I have work to do.”

 

I brush past him and go off towards the stairway that leads to the wards. On the way I see Anderson talking to the Commander. When he sees me he calls me over, “I am so sorry, Adi. If I’d known I would’ve warned you.”

 

I push back my snark with a look towards the Commander, “I know.”

 

“What did he want to talk about Lynes?” The Commander’s brows were furrowed in concern.

 

“It wasn’t anything I haven’t heard before. It’s fine.” There isn’t any change in his expression, “ _ I’m  _ fine.” With that last halfhearted reassurance I excuse myself and go find someone to punch.  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this is shorter than my past chapters, but the ending felt good so eh.


End file.
